What the Heart Wants
by NarutoRox
Summary: When an attempt on Howard Stark's life leaves the royal court in chaos, Bucky offers to go fetch Stark's son, Lord Anthony - the future heir to the throne, and Steve's fiance - in Steve's place. What Bucky doesn't count on is Lord Anthony getting himself kidnapped before Bucky can bring him home. (WinterIron Bang 2016 entry - full summary inside) Bucky/Tony with minor Steve/Tony
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Between his best friend's upcoming nuptials, said best friend's new status as future ruler of the kingdom, and trying to fit back into his old life while dealing with the aftereffects of his imprisonment during the war, Bucky has more than enough on his plate. But when an attempt on Howard Stark's life leaves the royal court in chaos, Bucky still steps up and offers to go fetch Stark's son, Lord Anthony - the future heir to the throne, and Steve's fiance - in Steve's place, in part because keeping Steve safe and out of trouble is second nature, and partially in the hope an actual mission will distract him from the difficulty that has become his life.

What Bucky doesn't count on is Lord Anthony getting himself kidnapped before Bucky can bring him home, or getting captured himself during his attempt at a rescue. But a promise is a promise, and Bucky has sworn to return Tony to Steve safe and sound - no matter what.

 **Pairings:** James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, minor Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, other minor implied/background pairings.

 **Warnings:** for brief descriptions of torture and violence, nightmares, minor character death, arranged marriage, canon-typical violence, mentions of and references to brainwashing, and several moments where you may wish to slap the mickey out of some of the characters for being blind and/or stupid.

Also, not really a warning, but this is a fantasy/historical AU, with all the historical anachronisms that entails.

 **AN** : My submission for the 2016 WinterIron Bang on tumblr. This beast almost killed me, and is officially the longest story I've ever written. I'm proud, if a little broken. X)

* * *

_~Prologue~_

In a land far away, in a world not entirely unlike our own, there was a sprawling, prosperous kingdom.

It was a pleasant kingdom, with fair laws, plenty of land, many resources, and kind and hardworking people. What made this kingdom different, however, was not the lands themselves, or even the the people, but the way in which they were ruled. For you see, the kingdom was made up of thirteen smaller lands - each land its own country, once upon a time - who combined their forces and joined together long ago. It was this union that made the kingdom prosper, as it allowed the smaller lands to pool their resources and better protect themselves, as well as preventing any petty wars or fighting amongst themselves.

But at the time, this also posed a problem, as each country had its own ruling court. How would they decide who would lead?

After much deliberation, and talks with all the courts and people of the land, it was decided that each country's court - or house, as they became known - would take turns ruling. The reigning house would rule the entire kingdom for forty years - the average lifespan of the poorest land - and the head of the ruling house would act as monarch, with the heads of the other twelve houses acting as the king or queen's court and advisors.

And so the kingdom lived under such rule for over 500 years - long enough for each court to rule at least once, and share its unique perspective and strength with the rest of the land. For how could the people of the land fear invaders, when there was the likes of Shield House, Star House, and the House of Defenders to protect them with its great warriors and tactical thinkers? How could the economy fail, when Mar-Vell House and Van Dyne House's friendly people and merchants were known throughout the world, and there was Baxter House, Storm House, and Stark House to spread knowledge and industry?

Suffice to say, the merging of the lands proved successful and beneficial to all. During those 500 years, the kingdom enjoyed great peace and prosperity, with only minor wars and strife marring their history.

Unfortunately, this peace did not last forever.

It was during the tenth year of Shield House's second rule when the great war against an enemy called HYDRA began. The HYDRA forces were led by a power-hungry man known as the Red Skull, who wished to conquer the kingdom for himself. The kingdom, of course, rose up and fought back against HYDRA, but sadly, a year after the war began, the reigning, beloved king died. The title passed to his named heir and son, King Michael, a brave soldier and one of the many commanders in the king's army, but unfortunately King Michael's rule was short-lived; his battalion was slaughtered a mere five days after his ascension to the throne.

By law and tradition, the other houses must vote and choose a suitable ruler from the ruling house's possible heirs in the event of a monarch dying, but with no named heirs and an ongoing war, it was agreed amongst the court and houses that a proper monarch would be chosen after the war ended, and that Shield House and its acting head - Colonel Chester Phillips - would continue to rule until the war was over.

And so the war continued, spanning nearly twenty-five years, but the kingdom and its people were not disheartened, and refused to give in. Their tenacity was rewarded when finally, under Shield's leadership and after many hard-fought battles, the war against HYDRA was won, and though the effects of the war would still be felt for years to come, the kingdom returned to relative peace.

But with the end of the war, and only five years of Shield's reign remaining, a new question arose - who would become the next king or queen?

Phillips had been well-liked as Head of Shield, but the war had ended at the cost of his life. A man named Nicholas Fury was his successor, but while he had been trusted as an advisor and head after Phillips' passing, the people and other houses were leery of him on the throne. He was a great defender of the kingdom, but also a rumored spymaster; how could they trust such a shady soul as king?

The man Lord Fury had named as his heir, however - Captain Steven Rogers, who had gained recognition on the battlefield for his loyalty and bravery - was very well-liked; a man of the people, and a perfect candidate in their eyes, if not the court's. For while the other houses liked Lord Steven, he was young yet, and - having grown up outside its influence - inexperienced and unfamiliar with the rules and traditions of the court. And besides, it was virtually unheard of to give the house heir the throne instead of the house head - especially an heir as unseasoned as Lord Steven.

The court was divided on how to proceed. Never in the kingdom's history had their been a rule quite like that of Shield's, and while some were content to let things continue as they were, many more were eager to end the uncertainty of ruling without a monarch, even if said monarch would be young and inexperienced. Still others suggested that Shield should simply cede its few remaining years so the next house could rule, an opinion favored by nearly a third of the people and the court - and, secretly, by Lord Steven himself.

Ironically, one of Lord Steven's greatest supporters was the head of Stark House, Lord Howard Stark - the next in line to be king himself when rule was passed to Stark House in a few years' time. Impressed with his skills and bravery, Lord Stark cited Steven's great leadership over his fellow soldiers in the Great War, as well as his connection with the kingdom's people. After all, Lord Stark pointed out, Steven was just as qualified to rule as Lord Stark's own son and heir, Anthony, who had been groomed for the position his whole life, and was a few years younger than Steven besides. If Anthony would be given the crown without a second thought, why should they hesitate to give it to Steven? he reasoned.

So Lord Stark and Lord Fury came up with a solution: Let Steven and Anthony marry, so they may both rule as kings. With Steven's good sense and knowledge of the people, and Anthony's cleverness, upbringing, and pedigree, they would make a very powerful couple, perfect for leading the kingdom into a new age and securing its future.

The suggestion was favored by all. After all, it was well within tradition for an heir of the previous regime to marry into the family of the future one, or even have a child with a member of the next house. The naysayers who wished for Shield to cede rule were appeased, as were those who wished for them to keep it. Anthony was well-liked by the other houses - much more liked than his father, at least - and between that and the respect Steven garnered from the people, no one could see how their rule could be anything but glorious.

And so the engagement of Steven Grant Rogers and Anthony Edward Stark, soon-to-be-rulers of the kingdom, was announced. Both Lord Fury and Lord Howard congratulated themselves on their stroke of genius while the kingdom rejoiced, and almost everyone breathed a great sigh of relief, for it had been many years since they had felt such a sense of stability.

If Steven and Anthony had any qualms about the arrangement themselves, they didn't speak of them. For Steven and Anthony may have both been stubborn, but they were also duty-bound individuals who cared deeply for one another, even if those feelings had never reached beyond friendship. But, given time and care, who was to say these feelings wouldn't grow?

And so they did, though perhaps not in ways either Steven or Anthony could have imagined. For neither one of them could predict the series of events that followed, nor the paths their hearts would take….

Or the actions of one James 'Bucky' Barnes.

* * *

_~Chapter One~_

"Bucky!" Steve yelled, voice high and shrill.

Bucky huffed and sped up a little, skidding around the corner just as Steve came barreling around from his side. They collided and fell in a tangle of limbs, Bucky doing his best not to crush Steve with his considerably heavier frame.

"Jeez, punk, are ya tryn'a kill us?" Bucky wheezed, gasping when a bony elbow hit him in the stomach.

Steve grunted and dug his elbow Bucky into again - this time intentionally - as he scrambled up.

"You're the one knocking people down," he huffed, cheeks a worrying shade of pink from exertion. "C'mon, I found it!"

"Okay okay, hold on, take a breather," Bucky said, the words barely out of his mouth before Steve took off again. "Stevie, it's a kite - it ain't gonna run off!"

Steve ignored him, as usual, and dashed around the short stone fence that separated the cobblestones of the town from the greenery beyond. Bucky sighed and jogged after the smaller boy, not keen on letting him out of sight where he could get into trouble (again).

It only took a few strides to catch up to Steve, and by the time Bucky did Steve had already stopped short in front of him. Bucky managed to slow down just before he could plow Steve over again, but it was a near thing. Steve didn't notice nor care, enraptured as he was with the tree they were standing under.

He glanced over at Bucky, then pointed up at the tree. "See?"

Bucky craned his neck and squinted up after Steve's finger. Their kite was caught in one of the middle branches, string and tail in knots.

"We'll have to climb up and get it," Steve said, his chin jutted out at that stubborn angle that meant Bucky would be unable to talk him out of it. "Here, gimme a boost."

Bucky shook his head. "I'll do it," he said, ignoring Steve's glare. "I'm the better climber, and besides -" _I'm taller_ , Bucky started to say, only to have Steve, the brat, yank him down by his shoulder.

"Gimme a boost," he repeated stubbornly, already climbing onto Bucky's back.

Bucky snorted and considered dropping the little punk on his ass, but straightened up and moved until Steve could grab one of the tree's lower branches. He did give Steve a strictly harder than necessary shove on the rump once Steve started pulling himself up, and flashed him a cheeky grin when Steve glared at him over his shoulder.

"Be careful!" Bucky yelled up once Steve had gotten almost halfway there.

"I'm fine!" Steve called back, scooting himself forward and cautiously standing up. There was an ominous crack from the branch he was standing on. "Still fine!" Steve cried, before Bucky could yell up at him again. "I'm okay, I'm almost there, I just have to -"

There was another crack, this one louder than the last, and then the entire branch gave away.

"Stevie!" Bucky shouted at the same time Steve yelped, and then Steve was falling, falling towards him, and Bucky tried to catch him, tried to break his fall, and -

He did. Because he was suddenly taller and bigger and stronger, big enough to catch tiny Stevie in his arms and hold him there, keep him safe.

"You okay?" he asked Steve, voice gravelly and much deeper - that of an adult.

Steve nodded, shaken, staring up at him with wide, shocked eyes. "You're huge," he whispered, awed. "Bucky, you're a grown-up!"

Bucky blinked and looked down at himself, but instead of the shock or awe or surprise he knew he should have been feeling, he felt calm. Detached.

 _Gone_ , whispered a familiar, accented voice in the back of Bucky's head. _Everything you are or ever were is gone, Bucky Barnes. Only the Soldier remains_.

Bucky wanted to protest - to shout or scream, or tell Stevie to run - but no sound passed his lips. Instead he looked down at Steve, and watched in horror as he raised his left hand - a shiny, foreign column of metal - and wrapped it around Stevie's throat.

Bucky startled awake, the scream he'd been unable to voice in his nightmare caught in his throat. Gasping, he jerked to a sitting position and blindly scanned the room for enemies, his fingers instinctively reaching for the knife he kept under his pillow.

Blinking rapidly and gulping in huge lungfuls of air, he kicked the blanket that was tangled around his legs off and swung them over the edge of the bed, using the feeling of the cold floor against the soles of his feet to ground himself.

Still, it was several minutes before his heart rate started to slow down, and he was able to hear the sounds of his own breathing without thinking of Steve's choked-off gasps.

Nightmare. It had just been a nightmare, twisted up into a memory because apparently Bucky's subconscious liked to torture him that way. Steve was okay, he was fine - Bucky had just talked to him yesterday, just before bed, in fact, and -

 _Everything you are or ever were is gone, Bucky Barnes._

Bucky covered his face with his hands, took a deep breath, and tried not to cry.

* * *

Bucky was walking the perimeter of the Triskelion a few hours later when he heard a familiar voice shout, "Bucky! Hey!"

Bucky had to stop himself from physically cringing, the memory of that same voice - only much higher and younger - calling his name in his dream this morning still fresh in his mind.

"Steve," Bucky answered in greeting, pausing and turning towards the other man as he jogged closer.

This Steve was bigger and stronger than his dream-counterpart, which made Bucky feel as relieved as it did uneasy. Sure, Steve wasn't the scrawny twig Bucky still sometimes missed, but he also wouldn't let Bucky crush his windpipe so easily, either.

Steve grinned at him, though the expression dimmed when he caught the strain in Bucky's smile. "You're up early," he noted carefully, raising his eyebrows. "Something wrong?"

"Just patrollin'," Bucky replied evasively, then started walking again, knowing Steve would keep pace with him.

Steve snorted. "You know we have a patrol for that, right?" he asked. "I know it might have thrown you off, what with the misleading name and all, but…"

"Yeah, and they're shit at it," Bucky retorted. "I've counted at least three weak points in the walls since I've started, and that's not countin' the blatant security breaches. If I had the mind to, I could be in and out and doing all kinds of harm before any of these idiots could so much as think about raising the alarm."

Steve laughed. "That's not entirely fair, Buck. Most folks haven't had your training - you're on a different level entirely," he pointed out, elbowing Bucky in the side.

"Just sayin'. If this is His Royal Highness's guard, you're gonna be dead inside a week," Bucky grumbled irritably, brushing off the uncomfortable feeling the reminder of his particular skillset gave him.

"I'm not His Royal Highness yet," Steve said, his nose wrinkling. "And technically, I think it would be 'His Majesty'."

"That's right, I forgot - no royal anything until after you marry Lord what's-his-name," Bucky sniffed, rolling his eyes. "Great - that gives you four more months to whip security into shape."

" _Tony_ ," Steve huffed in disapproval, though he looked as though he was trying not to laugh. "His _name_ is Tony. Or Lord Anthony, if you want to be formal."

Bucky snorted. "I don't care if he's Supreme Archduke Anthony - until I meet the guy, he's what's-his-name, the guy my best friend's been _arranged_ to marry," he said stubbornly, finally stopping to face Steve fully. "Stevie, are you sure about marrying this guy? Everything I've heard about him makes him sound like a real piece of work, and besides - you two barely know each other!"

Steve sighed, clearly unhappy that Bucky wanted to rehash the old argument. "Buck, I don't know how many more times I gotta say it - he's not a stranger. We knew each other before the engagement was ever announced. He was - _is_ \- a good friend, and he helped a lot, when you were…" He stopped short and glanced away, swallowing hard.

Bucky grimaced in both guilt and frustration. He'd purposely brought up Steve's fiance because he'd thought it would be a safe topic, far from Bucky and his problems, and what had happened to him when he'd been with HYDRA.

Clearly that had been wishful thinking.

Steve cleared his throat, then looked back over at Bucky. "Anyway, you can't judge someone you've never even met just by hearsay," he continued, his expression still calm, but more strained than before, as though he were forcing himself to remain upbeat.

"Tony's a good person, you'll see. I know you'll like him. He's funny, and kind, though he tries to hide it. And smart - really smart, like you wouldn't believe -"

"Okay, I get it," Bucky said quickly, cutting Steve off before he could go any further. "The guy's great, I'll take your word for it."

Bucky crossed his arms and leaned back against the stone wall behind them, chewing the inside of his cheek as he debated whether he wanted to say what was really bothering him or not. "But it doesn't matter if _I_ like him - it matters if you do," he said finally, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

Steve's face softened. "Of course I like him, Buck. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't," he said carefully, leaning back against the wall as well, and brushing his shoulder against Bucky's. "Like I said, he's a good friend. And, more importantly, we make a good team. I think… No, I _know_ we'll be great leaders. Together."

Bucky mulled that over for a second, then sighed.

"Yeah, but do you love him?" he asked quietly, finally getting to the crux of his problem. Because Steve deserved better than a loveless political marriage done out of duty, even if he was twisting it around in his head to see it differently.

Steve's smile dimmed, but only a little. "I think…" he started, then swallowed, face turning pink. "I think I will, in time," he said softly, biting his lip and rubbing absently at his chest, where the metal, circle-shaped pendant he always wore under his shirt now sat. "I mean I... I love him now, of course, but not - not in that way. Yet. But Buck, you gotta know… you'll see, when you meet him. Once you know the real Tony, he's a hard guy _not_ to love. He sorta just… sucks you in. You know?"

Bucky shrugged and grunted noncommittally, because no, he didn't know, and he didn't particularly want to sit here and listen to Steve try to talk himself into loving someone. But the answer was also probably as good as he was going to get, so he'd take it, for now.

"Hey, do you remember that kite we lost when we were kids?" he asked casually, deciding to change the subject.

Steve gave a little start of surprise, the chuckled. "The one that got caught in a tree?" Steve asked, mouth turning up at the corners.

Bucky grinned, ignoring the cold feeling in his chest. "Yeah, that one. How'd we get it down, anyways?"

Steve let out a little snort. "We didn't. I climbed up to get it, then fell on you and broke your arm, and nearly my own neck," he replied, sounding faintly amused. "Why?"

Bucky shrugged, rubbing at his left arm self-consciously. "No reason," he said, the sound of little Stevie's choked-off screams roaring in his ears. "Was just rememberin' it this morning, is all."

* * *

Having skipped breakfast, Bucky didn't object when Steve suggested they head back to the Triskelion's kitchens and try to charm some of the staff into giving them something to eat.

They had barely started in that direction, though, when they were stopped by a frantic member of the guard.

"Lord Steven, I've been looking all over for you," he puffed, bidding Steve a hasty salute - Steve had been a captain long enough that the gesture was ingrained in half the guard as habit - and nodding at Bucky.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, straightening up and going into business mode immediately. "Is something wrong?"

"Not sure," the man admitted. "But a messenger from Stark House just came in, and whatever news he has, it's urgent. Lord Fury has sent messengers out to the other houses and called for an assembly of the court, and he's requested your immediate presence for an emergency meeting."

"What kind of message?" Bucky asked, while Steve sucked in a sharp breath, face going tense.

An urgent message from Stark House wasn't necessarily cause for alarm, but a message that warranted summoning all the other houses meant something big, and probably not good.

The guard shook his head again. "I don't know, but whatever it is, it's got everyone abuzz," he said, then hesitated, and looked between Bucky and Steve. "There's - there's already a rumor, though. One of the guards heard part of the boy's message, and, well…" He bit his lip, settling his gaze on Steve. "I'm very sorry, sir. But it sounds as though there's been a death in the house."

* * *

"What's happened?" Steve demanded the second they burst into Fury's chambers, scaring the young man standing in front of Fury's desk into jumping nearly a foot in the air. "They're saying somebody's died, and you're sending out summons to the rest of the court. What's going on?"

The young man quickly moved out of Steve's way as he crossed the room, Bucky on his heels, but Fury remained as unperturbed as ever, and just leveled them with a glower.

"Sit down," he told Steve, then turned to Bucky. "You, out."

Having expected that anyway, Bucky shrugged and started to comply. He hadn't taken two steps towards the door, though, when he felt Steve's hand on his shoulder.

"He can stay," he said firmly, jaw set. When Fury looked as though he was going to protest, Steve indicated the young man with his chin. "If he can stay, so can Bucky," he said, arms crossed.

Fury gave a long-suffering sigh, the kind people tended to get when they were intimately familiar with Steve Rogers and his legendary stubbornness. Bucky was quite sure he'd been the one to perfect that sigh, as well as the accompanying look of grudging defeat. It was always entertaining to see it on someone else, though.

"This is Peter, the messenger from Stark House," Fury said, pointing at the boy - Peter - who smiled tentatively and gave them a nervous little wave.

Amused despite the circumstances, Bucky waved back, but didn't smile. Peter looked slightly terrified.

Fury shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned down, and sighed deeply again, completely ignoring both Bucky and Peter as he fixed his eye on Steve.

"Howard Stark's been poisoned," he said grimly, fists clenched on his desk in front of him.

Steve's whole body rippled in shock. " _What_?" he gasped, leaning over and planting his hands on Fury's desk. "I mean… how? Is he…?"

"He's alive," Fury replied, and ran a hand over his bald head. "But barely. They're not sure he's going to stay that way, and he's not conscious - or at least, he wasn't when Peter, here, left - but he is alive, for now."

Steve nodded jerkily, shoulders tense. "Do you know who did it?" he asked, face steely.

Fury shook his head. "No, not yet. Which was why I was hoping to be discreet about this," he said, and glared pointedly at Bucky.

"How do you know he's been poisoned?" Bucky asked, not taking the jab personally despite Steve's bristling. First rule of secrets: the less people who knew about them, the less people there were to tell them. "How do you know he isn't just sick?"

"Because Peggy found the poison," Peter piped up, stepping closer to the desk and then shrinking a little when he realized that everyone's attention was now on him. "Uh, well, her and Jarvis did, anyway. They found it in his Lordship's liquor. She thinks whoever it is probably intended to get her, too. She's investigating the whole thing personally, and sent me to inform you and to get some of your people together."

"Peggy?" Bucky asked blankly, looking over at Steve for clarification.

Peter flushed. "Uh, well, Lady Margaret. His Lordship's sister. Sorry, I forget -"

"Scariest and most efficient woman you'll meet outside of Natasha Romanoff, and Howard Stark's right-hand everyman," Fury said, waving Peter off. "The official line is that he's taken ill, but that's more to keep any panic from spreading to the people. The point is, this is an attempted assassination of the head of Stark House, who also happens to be one of the first in line for the throne. And Peggy thinks whoever this is was hoping to off her, too, which could either be because she's Howard's sister or because of the work she does for him, but either way, we have to assume the whole Stark family is at risk, as well as anyone else close to the throne."

Bucky tensed and looked sharply over at Steve, who paled - though not for the same reason Bucky did.

"Tony," Steve breathed, face drawing up in worry. "You haven't mentioned Tony. Is he okay? Is he -"

"He's not in Malibu," Fury said, and didn't sound at all happy about it. "Apparently, he's been demonstrating some new inventions at Fort Mira, and he's not due back for another few days."

Bucky frowned. Fort Mira was all the way across the desert, at the very edge of the kingdom. A very worrying distance if you wanted to protect somebody, especially if said somebody was an heir to the throne with a target on his back.

From their unhappy expressions, Steve and Fury thought the same thing.

Peter cleared his throat.

"Captain Rhodes is with him," he said, which didn't mean anything to Bucky but must have to Steve, since some of the tension left his shoulders. "Peggy wanted to send someone to go fetch him right away, but, ah…" He bit his lip and glanced at each of them in turn, fidgeting nervously.

"You haven't sent anyone?" Steve asked incredulously, the previous tension returning to his posture and then some.

Peter shrunk in on himself and looked helplessly to Fury, who grimaced.

"That would be one of the reasons we're trying to remain discreet," he sighed. "And why Peggy sent word straight to us. Otherwise, I don't doubt she'd be traipsing across the desert and collecting him herself right now."

"I don't understand," Steve said, just as Bucky started to get the picture.

"She doesn't trust her own people," Bucky guessed, then nodded at Peter. "Well, some of her people," he amended, making Peter flush again.

Fury nodded, his mouth a thin line. "Fact is, it's looking very likely that someone _in_ Stark House tried to kill Howard Stark - or at least, passed on the information that allowed it. No one outside their circle should have been able to get that close." He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "Peggy would sooner rip her own arm off than send people she doesn't trust to collect her nephew, and besides, if she can keep her people close..."

"Keep your friends close, your enemies closer," Bucky surmised, and wondered if he imagined the flash in Fury's eye when he looked at him.

Steve nodded, face grim. "Tony comes here," he said firmly. "It'll be the safest place for him outside Marvel Castle. I'll leave immediately. It should only take me -"

"Absolutely not," Fury said, narrowing his eye at Steve. "I've already put together a protection detail. They can bring him back and tell him what's going on."

Sensing an argument, Bucky went to put a hand on Steve's shoulder, but Steve brushed him off and loomed over Fury's desk.

"One person will be faster and draw less attention than a whole team," Steve said, jaw set at the stubborn angle Bucky just _knew_ meant there was going to be a fight.

Fury stood up and glowered back at him. "Have you been listening to a word I've said? Everyone and anyone close to the throne is a possible target, right now. That includes, especially, _you_ . It's bad enough he's out there, I'm not risking _both_ heirs at once by sending you to the ass-end of the kingdom, too."

Steve scowled back at him. "You also said we had to be discreet," he shot back. "Nobody will be expecting me to go, and I'll be quicker on my own. Besides, you know how Tony is - he's more likely to cooperate and take this seriously if it comes from me."

Fury slammed his hand down on his desk. "Damn it, Rogers, there are bigger things at stake here, and I don't have time to -"

"I'll go," Bucky said loudly, cutting off the argument before it could go any further. They both stopped and turned to stare at him, so he cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I'll go," he repeated, this time directly to Fury as he met the man's gaze head-on.

"Buck," Steve started uncertainly, but Fury silenced him with a raised hand.

"Why?" he asked calmly, inclining his head towards Bucky and giving him his full attention.

Bucky shrugged. "Steve's right, one person will be faster and draw less attention," he said, glancing quickly at Steve and then back. "The way I figure it, you just need someone who can get there quickly and tell him the news, then escort him back safely. And since you want to be as quiet and careful about this as possible, well." He shrugged again. "You know my history. I'm the perfect guy for the job."

"Some would say your history doesn't count in your favor," Fury remarked, almost offhandedly, though his expression had turned contemplative. "You've only just been cleared for duty, and I have other people who could work just as well."

Steve made a noise, but neither Fury or Bucky paid him any mind.

"You do," Bucky agreed, squaring his shoulders. "Romanoff would probably be your first choice, but as she's not already here, I'm going to assume you've got her off on a mission. I'm the next closest to her skillset."

He chanced another look at Steve - who still looked torn between impatience and irritation - then sighed.

"Look, I'm not saying you have to send me, but you and I both know that Steve isn't going to back down unless he either goes himself, or you send someone he approves personally. I, for one, don't want to have to chase his stupid ass across the desert when he decides to sneak off and do what he wants anyway, so I'm offering."

Steve gave a disgruntled little huff, but when Bucky turned and raised an eyebrow at him, he schooled his features.

Fury frowned a little harder, looking back and forth between Steve and Bucky before settling on Steve. "What do you think, Rogers? You trust him with the job?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Implicitly," Steve said without a second's hesitation, meeting Bucky's eyes and giving him a steadfast, trusting smile.

Bucky had to swallow down the bubble of unexpected emotion that smile brought, and looked back at Fury, who nodded decisively and said "You leave at once. Grab whatever equipment you need and then report to the stable. We'll have a horse ready for you when you get there."

Taking the dismissal for what it was, Bucky gave a sharp nod and turned to leave, already making a list in his head of what he would need.

* * *

Bucky had made it out of the office and most of the way up the hall when he heard Steve's heavy footsteps behind him, and huffed quietly to himself.

"I can handle this, Stevie," he said, without stopping or looking over his shoulder.

The footsteps sped up until Steve was beside him, face pinched in a combination of worry and exasperation.

"I know you can," Steve said, catching Bucky's arm and pulling him to a halt. "It's not you I'm really worried about."

Bucky blinked and raised his eyebrows, surprised enough that he didn't immediately pull out of Steve's hold. "Stark Junior?" he asked, biting back the quip about clingy spouses when he saw how serious Steve's face was.

Steve shook his head, made a face as though he thought better of it, and then nodded, mouth twisting. "It's just… I have a bad feeling. The timing, the place… Lord Howard rarely sends Tony that far across the realm, let alone to a place like Fort Mira, where anyone he could have been demonstrating to could have easily come to Malibu, or even someplace closer, like the Future Foundation. This whole thing feels wrong, somehow."

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, torn between wanting to ease Steve's mind and acknowledging how off the whole situation felt.

"Not going to lie, it's fishy," Bucky admitted, then added, "But he's in a fort surrounded by soldiers. It may be far removed, but at the moment it's still probably safer for him, especially if this was an inside job."

Steve still didn't look convinced, so Bucky chuckled and patted Steve's arm. "Hey, look on the bright side. You've been sayin' you wanted me to meet him. Well, it's finally happening."

Steve huffed and grinned a little in spite of himself. "Yeah, but now I'm not going to be there to play referee," he said, his smile dimming. "He's - he can be a bit much, at first. Try not to let him get under your skin. Once you get to know him, he's one of the greatest men you'll ever meet, but if he doesn't know you very well and you rub him the wrong way…" He shrugged, looking oddly guilty, which made Bucky think there was probably a story there. "Just… just look after him, Buck. Please?" he asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Bucky stood up straighter, wondering what this Stark guy had done to earn so much of Steve's loyalty, then nodded, face serious.

"I'll bring him back, Stevie. Safe and sound. You have my word," Bucky promised, reaching out and giving Steve's shoulder a squeeze.

Steve smiled in relief, and wrapped his hand around Bucky's wrist. "I know you will," he said, in the same tone he'd told Fury he trusted Bucky. Then his smile turned wry. "Just make sure you come back in one piece, too. And remember what I said about Tony. I don't want to have to explain to the court that my best friend and my fiance killed each other in the desert."

Bucky snorted and gave him one more pat on the shoulder, then a lazy salute before he started heading back on his way again.

He'd been dying for a mission for weeks, and this was an easy one: Get one guy, and keep him safe until they got back to the Triskelion.

How hard could it possibly be?


	2. Chapter 2

"They're not going to expect us back this early," Rhodey remarked as he settled in the seat across from Tony, finally finished with his obligatory inspection of the train car. A woman with a tray offered him a drink, which he politely declined, and Tony accepted with a wink. "We weren't supposed to leave for another two days."

Drink in hand, Tony leaned back in his seat and grinned lazily at Rhodey. "It's just two days. We finished all the demonstrations, and Obie told me to get done and head back as soon as possible." He took a long sip of his drink, then kicked lightly at Rhodey's shin. "You telling me you _wanted_ to spend two more days in the desert?"

Rhodey made a face. "God, no. This place is like Satan's armpit, and after spending a few days there I think every asshole in the army gets sent to Fort Mira."

Tony laughed and tried to kick at him again, but Rhodey was expecting it this time and lifted his legs. Tony moved his legs, too, just in case, but Rhodey didn't kick him back like he knew he would have had they been in private.

"Then what's the problem, Honey-bear?" Tony huffed, setting his glass down and stretching. "You're the one who's always telling me to be more punctual. Leaving early instead of late should be a fantasy of yours."

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "I think you grossly overestimate your importance in my fantasies," he said as he reached over to the seat next to Tony and picked up a piece of paper Tony had been doodling on.

"Really? Because I distinctly remember you saying you had a fantasy about getting me back on this train when we got to Mira," Tony said, batting his eyelashes and propping his feet up on Rhodey's lap.

"No, I said I had a fantasy about tying you to the roof of this train when it was time to leave," Rhodey replied, mouth twitching, then pushed Tony's feet off. "What's this?" he asked, holding up the schematic he'd picked up with raised eyebrows.

Tony sat up and made sad eyes at Rhodey for rejecting his own brand of physical affection, but Rhodey was unmoved. "You're cruel, my love. Too cruel," he sniffed, ignoring a scandalized gasp from one of the servers and slumping down in his seat dejectedly.

"I'm a monster, milord," Rhodey agreed, straight-faced and in tones of utter professionalism. "Thank God Lord Rogers is saving you from my reign of terror." He turned the paper around until the drawing was facing Tony and gave it a shake. "What is this?" he repeated. "I've never seen anything like it."

Tony gave it a glance and shrugged, then picked up one of the drawings and the charcoal stick he'd taken to keeping in his pocket. "Just an idea I had. Something to do with those strange mineral samples the folks at the fort were good enough to give us." He made a few adjustments to the schematic and then looked sideways at Rhodey. "Which is another good reason to get back early. I want to get those samples down to the workshop as soon as possible."

Rhodey hummed and leaned forward to admire Tony's handiwork, then chuckled. "Admit it - you just wanted to ride the train again," he huffed, amusement coloring his tone, as he tapped the schematic - Tony's very own (and very detailed) rendering of the train's engine.

"And you didn't?" Tony asked, adding another adjustment and then holding the paper up so Rhodey could see it better. "It's the only of its kind in the entire kingdom! State of the art, capable of moving cargo long distances on land in less than half the time it would take with the normal means." He wiggled in his seat excitedly and lifted his arm to the window, where nothing but sand could be seen for miles.

"It's better than trekking across the sand," Rhodey offered amiably, mouth twitching with the effort not to smile, as though Tony had said or done something particularly funny.

Tony scoffed and dropped his arm. "You're missing the point, though. Just think if we could get a railroad - no, an entire line or railroads - to connect the whole kingdom," he said, bouncing his knee up and down and leaning forward eagerly. "We could get supplies all over the realm twice as fast, we wouldn't be so dependant on river or canal access, we'd be able to travel long distances without horses or wagons..."

He dug through his pile of drawings and pulled up another schematic of an engine, this one more crude than the first, yet somehow more sophisticated as well.

"Not only that, think of the applications the engine could have elsewhere. I've already made improvements on it here - well, in theory, I'd have to get to the workshop to actually try and implement any of them, but let's face it, it's me, so we know it's going to work. But anyway, I think if we reduced the size and increased the power - definately do something with the fuel efficiency, too, of course…" He bit his lip and grinned, plans and machines building themselves in his head. "Just think, Rhodey - a train that didn't need tracks. A whole _fleet_ of trains that didn't need tracks! A - why do you not look impressed?" he demanded, stopping and squinting at Rhodey suspiciously. "You're wearing your 'I'm not impressed' face. In fact, you're wearing your 'I'm-no-longer-listening-but-I'm-going-to-humor-you' face, which is very annoying, because I'm the one who taught you that face. Are you not listening to me? Because that was a lot of brilliance all at once, and I -"

"No, no, I was listening to you," Rhodey assured hastily, cutting Tony off before he could get his second wind. "Engines. Improvements. Kingdoms filled with railroads. I got all that." He bent down and gathered up a few of the drawings Tony had dropped while he was gesturing, then raised his eyebrows at Tony. "But Tony, come on… trains without tracks? That's a little… ludicrous, isn't it?"

Feeling a little insulted, Tony opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. "Only because nobody else has thought of it yet," he sniffed, grabbing another piece of paper and flipping it over so he could doodle more on the back.

Tony suddenly, sorely wished Steve were here with him. He always appreciated Tony's genius, and loved hearing about his ideas. Even the ones Tony could admit were a little farfetched.

Rhodey tapped his foot against Tony's, catching his attention.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Rhodey said quietly when Tony looked up at him, expression guilty.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tony replied, ducking his head before Rhodey could get a good look at his face, and then grumbling in frustration when saw the smudged mess his sweaty hand had made of his schematic. "Ah, this is - you know, I think I'm going to go to the front and look at the engine," he announced, abandoning his drawing and standing abruptly. "I want to see it in action again while the ideas are still fresh in my mind."

Rhodey's face pinched. "I don't think that's -" he began, but Tony waved him off before he could finish.

"Nonsense, it's a great idea! God knows when I'll get to see it again. Might as well take the opportunity while I can," he said cheerfully, slipping his charcoal back into his pocket in case he needed it, and then putting a hand on Rhodey's chest when he started to stand as well. "Ah-ah, no. I'm going to the fun-car, where the conversation might possibly take a turn for the ludicrous. It's only three cars away, I don't need an escort. You stay here in the humdrum-car and count the dunes and rocks," he said, and pointed out the window.

Rhodey's guilty grimace was somewhat gratifying, but Tony still ignored it - as well as the exasperated "Tony," Rhodey ground out - and walked towards the front of the car.

"I'll be back before dinner," he called over his shoulder before he left, even though he very much suspected he probably wouldn't - not unless Rhodey came up anyway and dragged him back before then.

* * *

The train engineers turned out to be even better company than Tony had thought they would be. They appreciated his genius - and his sense of humor - almost as much as Steve did, and seemed genuinely interested in his questions and observations about the engine.

"I wanted to apprentice and work under one of the blacksmiths from Stark House," the youngest engineer, Jimmy - a bright-eyed, fresh-faced young lad who'd been hanging on Tony's every word since he'd entered the head car - admitted, when Tony asked them where they had received their training.

"Well, why didn't you?" Ramirez - the engineer in charge - asked, poking Jimmy in the side with her elbow. "Actions not taken are hardly worth bragging about, and Lord Anthony is too smart for false flattery."

Tony laughed and returned the mischievous wink Ramirez gave him, then grinned good-naturedly at Jimmy. "Just because I'm too smart for it doesn't mean I don't enjoy it," he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "But now I am curious - what kept you from doing it?"

Jimmy wrinkled his nose. "Distance. I had to take care of my parents, who lived in Bacster. Luckily one of the Baxter blacksmiths took me on, but…" He gave Tony a shy, sideways glance. "I wanted to learn from the best."

"Well, it worked out for you in the end," Tony pointed out, and looked around the car enviously. "Many - myself included - would have killed someone for the chance to study this engine for as long as you've been able."

"To the best of our knowledge, it's a perfect replica of the HYDRA locomotive," said the last engineer, Pratt. "I mean, it's a little hard to tell, since none of the inventors in Viridis Lupites got a look at the real thing, and Cobalorum House was a bit sketchy on how they got specks to begin with, but some of the Fort Mira guard that fought in the war and saw it say it looks very close." He cocked his head and cleared his throat, then looked sidelong at Tony. "Begging your pardon, sir, but why didn't Stark House try to build it instead? It seems more of the kind of thing your lot would have done, and if I'm not mistaken, your father worked closely with some of the soldiers who encountered the original HYDRA model."

Tony shrugged, mouth twisting unpleasantly. "Because Cobalorum House had the specks, as you said, and Norman Osborn is notorious for his inability to share," he snorted, shaking his head. "First-hand accounts were never very specific on the actual engine components of the HYDRA model, and all attempts to replicate on my father's part resulted in, er, explosions."

Which, looking at this model, Tony was beginning to think was a materials issue. Though really, this one looked like it could use a few improvements in that department, too. If Tony were building it, he'd probably -

"I - I didn't know Lord Stark actually built things anymore," Jimmy said, pulling Tony out of his thoughts.

"Huh? Uh, yes. Well, he oversees now mostly, but yes," Tony said distractedly, wishing he'd thought to bring some paper in with his charcoal. There was that new steel he'd been experimenting with in the forge at home. Its tensile strength alone -

The sound was the first thing Tony registered. A faint pop from somewhere behind him, not unlike the sound of a bottle busting open. The explosion came a second later, and with it - chaos.

Tony's head slammed painfully into the wall beside him as the car flipped sideways, knocking him senseless and graying his vision. Pain exploded all over his body as he was thrown from one wall to the next, the breath pulled from his lungs as something white-hot cracked against his chest. Then he hit his head again, and everything went dark and quiet.

When Tony came to his senses an indeterminate amount of time later, the train was on its side, but no longer moving. He tried to sit up, but the movement made his whole body scream in agony. He coughed once and became instantly aware of a searing, unbearable pain in his chest that was worse than the rest, and made it nearly impossible for him to breathe. When he looked down, he spotted the reason why - and very nearly lost consciousness again.

Three inches of charred, sharpened metal stuck out of his chest, almost directly over his heart. If Tony had had the air in his lungs to do so, he would have certainly screamed.

As it was, though, he could only manage a choked-off gasp, which was nearly impossible for him to hear over the roaring in his ears anyway. He looked up, then to his left - _anywhere but his chest_ \- and made another choked noise when he spotted movement at the far end of the car.

He didn't see Jimmy or Ramirez or Pratt, but maybe one or all of them were unhurt, or at least uninjured enough to get out of the car. Maybe they could help, or could get someone to help, someone from one of the other cars, if those people hadn't been -

Oh, God.

 _Rhodey_.

The explosion had come from behind them. Rhodey had only been three cars back. What if, what if -

A figure appeared at the edge of Tony's vision, then stepped closer and crouched over him. A masculine voice said something in a language Tony's addled brain couldn't recognize, and then the man pressed closer and scrutinized Tony with narrowed eyes - the only part of his face Tony could see, since the rest was covered in some sort of bandana.

The man said something else Tony didn't understand, but then he thought he heard his name - "Stark" - and tried to nod.

"M-me," Tony tried to say, but the word wouldn't form.

The man's eyes flashed in what Tony would later identify as triumph, and then two more men appeared, and the next thing Tony knew, he was lying in the back of a moving wagon with no idea of how he had gotten there, his entire body an aching mass of pain.

When unconsciousness finally took him for the last time, it was a merciful, cold relief.

* * *

Once the sun was up enough to brighten his surroundings, Bucky pulled his horse to a stop, then took his binoculars out of his pack and pointed them at the wreckage of what used to be a train.

He wasn't entirely surprised; he'd caught sight of the smoke in the distance just before sunset the previous day, and after consulting his compass and the map Fury had provided him, Bucky had guessed - correctly, apparently - that it was coming from an area near the desert's only railroad. He'd kept riding parallel to it most of the night, then towards it once dawn started breaking, instinct and curiosity telling him he should go investigate, even if the slight detour would cost him some precious time.

Time he needn't have worried about, apparently, since this would have delayed Stark's departure by a few days at least.

Bucky lowered the binoculars and frowned to himself, wondering what could have caused so much damage. He wasn't an expert on trains - counting his time with HYDRA, this was only the second one he'd ever laid eyes on - but from what he knew of this one and remembered of HYDRA's, they were supposed to be pretty hardy. Yet there were huge, smoldering holes in some of the cars, and others were broken into chunks and pieces of twisted metal - damage he didn't think a simply derailing could explain.

 _Sabotage_ , whispered the quiet voice of the Soldier in the back of his head. _Or an ambush._

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and shushed the voice into silence, even if he agreed with it. Lifting the binoculars again, he debated on whether or not he should go check for survivors. It was probably a moot point - the wreckage looked to be at least a day or two old, and between the predators and the desert heat, anyone left at this point would be beyond help - but just as he dismissed the idea he saw movement near one of the cars.

Adjusting the binoculars and his angle, Bucky followed the movement until he got a clear view, and watched as a figure - no, two figures - pulled a crate out of one of the open cars. Yet two more figures walked around another overturned car and gingerly picked the crate up, then walked it back around the car and out of view. Another angle adjustment revealed more crates and the wagon the figures were loading them into, as well as more people and several horses.

 _Bandits_ , Bucky's mind supplied, when he realized none of the men were wearing the kingdom's army uniform, and were carrying the mismatched weaponry typical of marauding gangs.

He did a quick count and came up with twenty that he could see, though he was guessing at at least a dozen more just from their horses and wagons.

So - twenty to thirty minimum, with an unknown number of weapons and fighting ability, and possible reinforcements nearby.

Not impossible, with stealth and the element of surprise on his side, but more difficult than he would like, with a high possibility of injury.

Had this been the mission he'd been assigned, he wouldn't have hesitated.

Had this been a mission he'd been assigned as the Winter Soldier, those men would already be dead.

But Bucky was not the Soldier anymore, no matter what his nightmares and the treacherous voices in his head said, and this was not the mission Fury had given him and with which Steve had trusted him. His job was to get to Stark and keep him safe - not to crack a few bandits' heads together.

He'd leave them be, and then drop a line to the folks at Fort Mira and Shield when he got back.

 _Could be trouble later, though_ , Bucky thought to himself, and weighed his other options.

He could go around them, sneak by and find an alternate route to Fort Mira. It wouldn't be difficult, if he'd gotten this close without them noticing him.

Or, he could wait until they left and follow them a ways, maybe see where they were heading so he could avoid them later. He wasn't going to be able to take Stark back by train, obviously, so they'd have to cross the desert again on horseback. And while taking on a group of bandits by himself wasn't really _wise_ , it was at least doable - something that became less likely when he had to keep one eye on the untrained civilian he was supposed to be keeping safe. If he knew where they were going, he'd at least know how to avoid a possible altercation on the route back.

Decision made, Bucky dismounted and lead his horse further back, where they were better hidden in the dunes, and then waited.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. Little over an hour later, several of the men mounted and rode off with the filled wagons, leaving a few stragglers behind, as well as a trail Bucky would have been able to follow in his sleep. Still, he waited a while longer before he started tracking them, taking care to give the wreckage and the remaining bandits a wide berth when he rode off.

* * *

Bucky didn't start questioning his actions until a few hours later, when the sandy terrain became interspaced with boulders and he realized he'd followed the men all the way to the eastern mountains at edge of the desert.

Cursing to himself, Bucky pulled his horse up short, guilt and indecision making him feel antsy. He hadn't meant to follow them this long. He'd only needed to know the general vicinity of their hideout to avoid them. They likely wouldn't be a problem as it was, so long as he stayed to the west and kept an eye out for them on the route back. He should have stopped the second he'd realized where they were headed.

 _Dammit._ This was going to put him a full day behind schedule. He shouldn't have let himself get so distracted. He was supposed to be escorting his best friend's fiance back home, not chasing bandits across the damned desert.

Still, Bucky hesitated before he could turn around and start riding back, watching as the bandits weaved through the rocky terrain and began climbing the mountain path, his instincts screaming at him to follow them.

Shield would probably want somebody to go after them. Bucky wasn't certain, but the marauders' pillaging had looked a little too organized to have been a crime of opportunity, and his gut told him that whatever had happened to the train had been deliberate. If so, then somebody at the kingdom would want to know how and who was responsible, and if he knew the exact location of the culprits' hideout, he'd be able to report it. But…

 _Not your mission_ , Bucky firmly reminded himself, thinking of his promise to Steve. Fury would probably have kittens if knew Bucky had let himself get distracted and left the future king of the land unprotected in the middle of nowhere.

Only, Stark wasn't _completely_ unprotected, was he? Not exactly, anyway. He _was_ in a fort, after all, and not completely alone - the Rhodes fellow Steve had seemed to trust was supposed to be with him. And there was still the matter of the destroyed train, so he wouldn't be in any hurry to leave. Plus, up until now, Bucky had been doing better than expected on time…

 _To hell with it_ , Bucky thought, and dismounted. He'd come this far, he might as well take a look. If their hideout was no more than the cave in the side of a mountain it looked to be, it probably wouldn't take him more than ten or so minutes to sneak up and scout it out anyway. Then he could come back here, ride off to the Fort, and let the powers-that-be know that their train got derailed by a bunch of cave-dwelling highwayman.

So, leaving his horse where it was, Bucky carefully picked his way through the rough terrain towards the gap the bandits had disappeared through.

It only took him a few minutes to catch up to them, and when he did, it was to find them unloading their wares at the mouth of one of the area's many caves, just as Bucky had suspected. They were speaking loudly, yelling at one another and giving instructions in a language Bucky understood, even though he couldn't remember ever learning it.

Another skill he could thank HYDRA for, though at the moment he truly _was_ thankful for it.

Using the shadows cast by the boulders and rock formations around them, Bucky snuck a little closer in order to hear what they were saying, hoping to garner some more useful information.

" _I think it is junk_ ," said one of the bandits. " _What could he possibly do with any of this, eh? It's useless_!"

The man he was talking to shrugged. " _The boss said to take it, so we take it_ ," he said. " _You never know. Even if Stark can't do anything with it, it might be useful to us later_."

Bucky - who'd started moving closer again - froze completely, sure his ears must have deceived him.

Had they just said Stark?

" _Feh, that sorry bastard is going to die before he builds anything for us_ ," snapped the first man, making Bucky tense. They couldn't be talking about the same Stark, they simply couldn't. How the hell would he have even gotten here to begin with?

" _The boss thinks the doctor will be able to keep him alive, but did you see him? He was half-dead when we pulled him out of the wreckage_ ," the man continued, before putting the final nail in the coffin by adding, " _Those lordly-types are so delicate_."

Bucky's stomach sank. Shit shit _shit_.

Stark - Stark was _here._ It didn't seem possible, but who else could they be talking about? There were only two Lord Starks (well, technically only one until the title passed to his son, if Steve had explained it right and Bucky had this aristocratic titling nonsense straight, but semantics), and if Stark the elder was lying on his deathbed at his estate, then - unless the bandits were mistaken - that had to mean they were talking about the other Stark.

The one Bucky was supposed to have been keeping safe from this sort of thing.

Son of a _bitch._

Stark must have tried to come home early, or taken the early train back. Or, hell, perhaps Fort Mira had been overrun, or Stark had never made it there to begin with. Either way, Stark - or someone the bandits thought was Stark - was here, and this was no longer a jaunty little reconnaissance detour.

One problem with a solo rescue mission, though: there were a hell of a lot more bandits than Bucky had thought, making any kind of rescue difficult to mount by himself - especially if Stark was hurt, like the bandits had implied. As much as he hated leaving, Bucky needed backup. But before he went back to Fury for said backup, Bucky would first need to set eyes on Stark to confirm it was even him. And while infiltration wouldn't be a problem while he was by himself, if he discovered it _was_ Stark, there was no way Bucky in good conscious would be able to just leave him, even for reinforcements. Which circled right back to his original problem of trying to rescue Stark by himself.

He needed to be smart about this. He didn't want to leave Stark, but going in by himself would likely get himself - and Stark - killed. Some of Fury's people would be better, but Fort Mira was closer than the Triskelion - Bucky could round up some of Mira's guard and be back within a day...

Deep in thought, Bucky didn't realize he wasn't alone until something cold and sharp was pressed against his back, right over his heart, followed almost immediately by a blade to his throat.

" _Do not move_ ," hissed a voice in the same language the bandits had used, right in Bucky's ear.

 _Stupid_ , Bucky thought, to both himself for being careless enough to get caught, and to the person at the other end of the blade for being dumb enough to try and take him out on their own.

Moving quickly, Bucky slammed his right elbow back into his attacker's stomach while bringing his left arm up to block the knife at his throat. The weapon that had been at his back left a shallow cut before it clattered to the ground, but the one at his throat glanced harmlessly off the metal of his arm, allowing Bucky to twist it out of his attacker's grip and stab it down into their forearm. He then yanked the man forward and slammed the back of his head against the his skull, using the momentum to pull the knife back out, and then pitching it at the bandit who dropped down from the boulder beside them, burying it into his neck.

Bucky realized his mistake before his first attacker could even hit the ground, cursing to himself as he leapt towards the second one - but not fast enough to prevent him from crying out.

 _Stupid_ , he repeated to himself as a cry went out through the camp, and two more bandits appeared from the rocks and spotted him. _Stupid stupid stupid_ -

 _Foolish,_ the voice of the Soldier - unusually quiet until now - muttered back. _Should have killed them all when you had the chance_.

Ignoring that, Bucky rolled and leapt for the cover of boulder just as an arrow whizzed by his head, followed immediately be at least ten others.

 _So much for getting backup_ , Bucky thought sourly, keeping to the shadows and taking out a bandit so he could liberate him of his sword. He used it to cut down a another bandit and deflect a knife from a third, then dove for cover before one of the archers could spot him.

If he left now, there was no telling if the bandits - and Stark - would still be here when he returned, which meant he needed to see if he could get to Stark now. He had completely lost the element of surprise, but maybe he could still sneak by, and -

A bandit dropped down from the wall behind him, swinging a mace. Unable to dodge entirely, Bucky used his stolen sword to deflect the blow towards his left arm instead, and had just enough time to notice the mace appeared to be glowing before his whole left side exploded in white-hot, searing pain.

Bucky cried out, the pain bringing him to his knees, then lurched sideways to avoid another blow. Blinking stars out of his eyes, Bucky swung his sword blindly and hit someone, but his limbs felt numb and clumsy, and the sword fell from his grasp. Off balance, Bucky tried to roll to his feet and swayed, then fell to one knee again when he was kicked in the stomach.

Wheezing, Bucky saw a blur rush at him from the left, and instinctively lifted his left arm - and discovered why his balance was so off. Because his left arm - made of one of the strongest metals HYDRA had been able to forge, and virtually indestructible since he had received it - failed him, and hung limply at his side, broken.

 _Foolish_ , the Soldier sighed, just before the glowing mace struck Bucky's shoulder. Then Bucky's world exploded, before going very, very dark.


	3. Chapter 3

Of the several things Peggy was not currently in the mood for, the hulking, stubborn-looking blond standing in her doorway was rapidly making the top of her list.

"Move," she said sharply, not caring about the Shield crest on his uniform. She knew she should probably be showing more diplomacy, but after spending the last two days dealing with his ilk, she couldn't find it in herself to do so.

Though she had asked for - and appreciated - the first group Fury had sent, she had quickly lost patience with the rest, and was growing tired of the parade of agents Fury was _continuing_ to send without her permission. Really, it was a wonder she hadn't punched one yet. Not only were most of them running roughshod all over her investigation, but the competent ones kept trying to undermine her authority.

Such as this pill, who was still not moving.

"I'm here to help," he said, raising his chin. He had the air of someone who was used to giving orders rather than taking them, and just looking at him was making Peggy tired.

"Wonderful," Peggy replied. "Now, move."

The man didn't waver. "I was told you were the one to see if I wanted to find out what is going on," he said, crossing his arms and staring at her expectantly.

Deciding that this man was going to be the Shield agent she punched, Peggy wondered where Jarvis was. He'd been taking it upon himself to herd the Shield people about, and thus far this was the only one he'd let slip past.

Someone cleared their throat from beside them, and then Pepper stepped forward, looking nervously between the man and Peggy. "I let him in, ma'am," she said, looking quickly over at the man, then turning her back on him to face Peggy fully and lowering her voice. "You see, he's -"

"Steven Rogers," the man said, inclining his head. "Heir of Shield."

Peggy paused.

 _Oh, bloody hell._

She did not have time for this.

"I see," she said slowly, and then inclined her head as well. "In that case…" She raised her head and looked him straight in the eye. "Move, milord."

Steven's mouth opened and then snapped shut in surprise, while Pepper coughed in order to hide her laugh.

Then, incredibly, Steven smiled.

"Tony was right. You are terrifying," he said, expression fond, before turning more serious. "Please, I - I really do want to help, anyway I can. How is Lord Stark faring?"

Peggy considered him. Though she had heard much about him from both Howard and Tony, she herself had never met him (something she suspected was intentional on Howard and Tony's part, after the incident with Lord Quill a few summers ago), and therefor had never let herself develop an opinion on him.

Though, looking at those broad shoulders and blue eyes, it was no wonder Tony hadn't put up much of a fight against the engagement; a thought Peggy felt bad for almost as soon as she was done thinking it.

Good looks and worries about her nephew's future notwithstanding, Tony seemed to genuinely like the man, and it looked as though she was going to be seeing more of him whether she liked it or not. Might as well start putting some effort in now.

"My brother is too stubborn to let something as blase as bad liquor kill him," Peggy sighed, answering Steven's question and moving to walk past him. To her surprise, Steven actually moved this time, and let both her and Pepper pass before trailing after them.

"So I hear," Steven said. "But is he going to be alright?"

"It depends on your definition of 'alright'," Peggy replied as they walked through her study. She moved around her desk and opened a drawer, then started rummaging through it. "He still hasn't woken up, so most people would probably say no. But since the doctors think he'll make a full recovery and he isn't up and complaining about us pouring out all of his good scotch, I think he's splendid."

Steven blinked a few times, as though he wasn't sure what to say to that. Then he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's… good news. But, uh - is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yes. Make your people leave," Peggy said bluntly, finally finding the letter she was looking for and opening it.

Steven startled. "What? Why? I thought you needed-"

"Competent souls willing to cooperate and take orders from me?" Peggy suggested, raising her eyebrows. "Because that is not what I am getting. Tell me - is Fury sending all of these people in an attempt to micromanage me and mine, or because he finds us that incompetent?"

Steven pursed his lips. "Probably because he's a paranoid bastard and likes to be in control," he said, surprising Peggy yet again by sounding as though he didn't approve. "I'm sorry, I'll speak with him. But in the meantime, someone in your house might have had something to do with all this, and leaving you and your people to your own devices just isn't -"

"I know," Peggy said irritably. "Which is exactly why I don't need so many of your people running around and scaring whoever he or she is into keeping their head down and their guard up. I need -"

There was a clatter that startled them all. Peggy looked towards the source and found Jarvis standing in the doorway and heaving, his face paler than she had ever seen it.

"Mr. Jarvis? Heavens, whatever is the matter?!"

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Carter," Jarvis gasped, and even if he hadn't looked so disheveled Peggy would have known something was wrong, because Jarvis only ever called her that around members of the family. "But a messenger has just arrived, and I'm afraid -"

He swallowed and visibly tried - and failed - to compose himself.

"It's Anthony," he whispered, making Peggy's stomach turn to ice. "Captain Rhodes - he rode into Bacster with a group of Fort Mira soldiers a day ago, and the message is just now getting to us. There was some sort of attack on the Fort Mira express, and Anthony -"

He wrung his hands, looking from Peggy to Pepper and then Steven.

"Anthony is missing."

* * *

 _The metal arm hurts when the doctor prods at it, but the Soldier knows better than to say anything about it. He cannot remember why, and it hurts his head when he tries, and he thinks that might be answer enough anyways._

 _"You are finished," the doctor says finally, when the Soldier can finally make a fist. "Go and stand with the others."_

 _The Soldier obeys, getting up and walking over to stand with his, his, his -_

 _Brothers? Comrades? Others. The others. The ones like him, who do not feel or think, but live and die for the mission. All standing in a line, waiting, waiting for orders, most blank faced except for a select few, who are wearing puzzled expressions, expressions that also confuse the Soldier, make him feel, make him feel -_

 _Another doctor, Zola, comes, and orders them to follow. They do. Through the halls and deeper into the castle, over a bridge and closer to the smell of seawater. The Soldier thinks the path might be familiar, even though he is sure he has never been here before._

 _They come to a stop on a bridge over a lake in a massive cavern. Zola starts speaking again, but the Soldier cannot hear him over the distracting voices in his head - one that sounds soft and melodious, and another that sounds like his own, which is screaming at him and telling him to move._

 _He does not._

 _Zola appears before him, mouth a smile without joy, and gives him a cup filled with a dark, thick liquid the Soldier recognizes as blood._

 _"Drink," Zola says softly._

 _The Soldier drinks._

 _The soft, melodious voice gets louder, more soothing, and drowns out the screaming voice entirely._

 _"Hail Hydra," Zola murmurs, and takes the cup from him._

 _When the Soldier looks down at the lake beneath them, there is a giant pair of red, glowing eyes staring back at him._

Bucky woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest and his skin crawling from the nightmare.

Swallowing around his dry throat, he rolled over until he was facing the front of his cell, where the light was best and the food and water was usually left. He was unsurprised to find neither; his captors had been leaving it less and less after he'd caved in one of the bandits' skulls with a tin cup.

Probably for the best. He didn't think he could drink anything after that nightmare anyway.

He sat up gingerly, the movement awkward with his right arm shackled and his left the broken deadweight it was. He didn't know what the bandits had done to it when they captured him, but it had been utterly useless ever since, and a large contribution to his discomfort.

Two weeks. By his count, he'd been here two weeks. Two weeks in this sad little cell with pitiful security, and yet he still hadn't found a way to escape. It was absolutely embarrassing, more so than being captured to begin with.

Worse, he still didn't know where they were holding Stark. And Bucky knew that they had him, and that he was still alive, because he kept hearing them talk about him. Complaining about his lack of cooperation, then bragging about torturing him into compliance, the latter of which being the reason Bucky had lost his temper with the tin cup.

Steve was probably losing his mind. In fact, Bucky would bet the useless hunk of metal that was his left arm that the dumb punk was defying orders and hunting him and Stark down now, Fury and all of Shield be damned. A part of Bucky almost wished he was, just so he could see these assholes fall before the unholy might that was an angry Steve.

Ignoring the rumbling from his belly, Bucky tilted his head back and scowled up at the ceiling. In actuality, Bucky had no idea if and when help was coming. Steve would be too stubborn to even consider the idea, but it was quite possible Shield thought they were both dead. For now, at least, Bucky was on his own, and he needed to figure out a way to get to Stark and escape.

Lost in thought, he closed his eyes, and was just starting to drift off again when a commotion up the corridor broke him out of his doze.

Frowning, Bucky pushed himself to a standing position and edged as close to the front of his cell as his shackled arm would allow.

Four men appeared in front of his cell, looking furious and armed to the teeth.

" _Against the wall_ ," one snarled, brandishing his blade, while his fellow pulled out a key and unlocked the door.

Bucky complied, mentally taking stock of their weapons as he did so. If he could get ahold of one of their knives…

" _What is going on_?" Bucky asked in their language, more as a distraction than anything else. Two of the men were pressing blades against his back and stomach while a third watched, but the fourth man was busy undoing his shackle from the wall, his dagger an enticing temptation on his belt.

" _You will come with us and do as you're told_ ," snapped the same man, before exiting the cell and then barking at the others to follow.

Bucky grunted and allowed the other three men to manhandle him out of the cell, discreetly pocketing the stolen dagger. He didn't bother asking where they were going, figuring it would either earn him a punch or another rebuttal, but he tried to memorize the way as they went, knowing it would come in handy later.

After a few minutes of marching deeper into the cave, he was shoved through a door and pushed to his knees, one blade at his throat and another digging into his back.

" _You will translate for us_ ," someone ordered, yanking Bucky's head back and forcing him to look up at them.

Bucky grunted again, eyes immediately darting around to survey his surroundings when the man let go of his head and stopped blocking his vision.

The room was bigger than his cell, though there were so many of the bandits in it that it was much more cramped. They were all standing in a loose circle around Bucky, a man with a scruffy goatee who was also on his knees, a person lying face-down on the ground, and a bald bandit who wore no head piece or bandana, whom Bucky suspected was in charge.

The other man on his knees wouldn't take his eyes off the man lying down, his face blank but his eyes shining with emotion.

"Since you do not seem to understand the gravity of your situation, Lord Stark, perhaps you will understand it better from one of your countrymen," the bald bandit in charge said, shocking Bucky into jerking his head up.

"Stark?" Bucky blurted, wincing when his movement made one of the blades cut into him a little, and scarcely believing his luck.

Stark twitched and swiveled his head towards Bucky, eyes widening in surprise.

He was not at all what Bucky was expecting. He didn't look much like the man Steve had described, but then again, torture and captivity could do that to a person. His face was dirty and gaunt, hair a tangled mess and clothes even more ragged than Bucky's. Even so, Bucky could tell he was handsome, underneath it all, though that wasn't the thing that gave Bucky pause.

No, what caught his attention was Stark's eyes, and the hint of defiant steel Bucky could see in them even from here.

"Ah, see? He even knows who you are," Baldy continued pleasantly, smacking Bucky on the shoulder in a parody of friendliness.

Stark visibly clenched his jaw and glared at the man, hate in his eyes.

The bandit smirked sadistically. " _Tell him if he does not build us what we asked, he will die, like his friend, here_ ," he told Bucky without looking at him, smirk widening as he watched Stark.

Bucky grimaced, not sure why he was bothering if this guy could just say it in English anyway, but looked at Stark and said "Uh, he says -"

"Build him what he wants or I die," Stark said dully, eyes leaving the leader's and locking on Bucky's instead. "Yes, I know. That's what they've been saying." He then looked over at the body of his companion, his face hardening. "Tell them they can go fuck themselves, and as colorfully as possible, please."

Bucky could see why Steve liked the guy. Had they been in any other situation, he might have even laughed.

"I'd really like to, but I don't think that's a good idea," Bucky said reasonably, eyes flicking to the bandits' swords pointedly.

Stark scowled. "Why not? I already told them I would, and they killed - my friend, anyway," he said, words stumbling as he glanced over to his dead companion again. "I won't help them kill more people, even to save my own skin."

Though Bucky's respect for Stark moved up several notches, his estimation for his survival did not.

The leader tsked, then stepped forward and yanked Stark's head back by his hair. "We killed him because we had an agreement, one that _you_ breached," he said calmly, despite the cold fury that was coming off of him in waves. Stark winced as his hair was pulled harder, forcing his head back even more and exposing his throat. "Perhaps you need to be reconvinced," he added softly, holding his hand out to one of his men, who dropped a small knife into it. "There are much worse things than dying, after all."

He then pressed the knife into the skin of Stark's collarbone, and slowly started adding pressure, drawing a tiny drop of blood at first -

"Wait!" Bucky shouted, jerking the arms of the men who were holding him, and making several of the bandits reach for their swords.

The leader turned towards him and raised an eyebrow, but didn't take the knife away from Stark's skin, while Stark himself looked at him as though he'd just grown two extra arms.

Bucky licked his lips. "Wait," he said again, quieter but much more forcefully.

He just needed to buy a little time. He'd found (well, sort-of) Stark, which had always been his first real obstacle to getting out anyway. Now that he had him, all he needed was a little more time to come up with a plan, and to not get Stark or himself killed or maimed in the meantime.

Which, given the last few minutes, was probably going to be easier said than done.

God, Steve knew how to pick 'em.

Bucky locked eyes with Stark.

"Say you'll do what they want," he said, willing Stark to play along.

Stark frowned, while the leader let go of his hair and chuckled. "Listen to the man, Stark," he said mockingly, giving Bucky a smug look. "Clearly, he is much smarter than you."

Bucky swallowed, ignoring the leader and determinedly keeping eye contact with Stark in hopes he'd do the same. "Trust me," he told him, pulse loud in his ears. "Please," he added, when it looked as though Stark was wavering. "Steve would want you to live."

Stark's face twitched at the mention of Steve's name, from surprise to hope and then dejection, before shutting down completely.

He looked up at the leader, face still blank. Bucky held his breath, and then -

"Fine," Stark said, voice hollow and jaw clenched.

Bucky let out a breath of relief while the leader chuckled quietly.

"I thought so," he said, and then motioned for his men to move.

"This man will stay with you as your translator," he added, pointing at Bucky. "And as your assistant, since you claimed to need one, and your last one is, well," He looked distastefully over at the body on the floor, which two men began dragging away.

Stark's face twisted, eyes glittering in a combination of grief and anger, but he didn't say anything.

The leader turned and starting walking towards the door, so while Stark couldn't see his smirk when he next spoke, Bucky could.

"Perhaps you will take better care of this one, yes?"

* * *

"Who the hell are you?" Stark demanded, as soon as they were alone.

Bucky shook his head and held his finger to his lips for silence, tilting his head towards the door and listening for the guards.

"They're gone," Stark said impatiently, flapping his arm towards the door. "There are only ever two guards in the hall , and they can't hear us unless we're standing by the door. Now answer my question - who are you, and how the hell do you know Steve? Are you one of Fury's - he doesn't call them henchmen, does he?"

"Not to our faces, no," Bucky replied, splitting his attention between Stark and the door. "My name is Bucky Barnes," he added, once he was satisfied that no one was listening in on them. He then walked over to the door and ran his hand over it, looking for weaknesses. "Steve sent me to collect you, only neither of us were expecting -"

"Bucky?" Stark asked, voice puzzled. "Who the hell is - oh, _shit_ ," he hissed, startling Bucky into whipping around and facing him.

Stark stared back at him with wide eyes, and plopped down on the cot he'd been standing near. "You're _that_ Bucky, aren't you?"

Bucky blinked at him, bemused. "Uh… what Bucky?"

Stark waved his hand. " _The_ Bucky. Steve's Bucky. James Barnes, his beloved brother-in-arms, the prodigal son that returned - _that_ Bucky," he said impatiently, eyes roaming over Bucky as though he were seeing him for the first time.

"Uh," Bucky said intelligently, not entirely comfortable under the scrutiny. "I didn't think you knew who I was."

Everyone in Shield House knew about him, but it was rather hard for them _not_ to, with the rumors and the constant whispering about his time under HYDRA's spell.

Stark gave him a _look_. "You really think I'm friends with Steve Rogers and don't know who you are?" he asked, as though Bucky had just insulted his intelligence. "Half the time I couldn't get the sap to shut up about you, especially when you were -" Stark froze, his mouth snapping shut, then grimaced. "- gone. Sorry, that wasn't - never mind. Just… I know who you are," he finished lamely, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, then shuffled over and sat down on the crate nearest Stark.

"Stevie always was a sap," Bucky agreed lightly, chewing the inside of his cheek. "He… he said you helped him, a lot. When everyone thought I was dead."

Stark looked up in surprise. "Did he?" he asked, squirming uncomfortably. "I don't know about that. Mostly I just riled him up and gave him someone to argue with - poor substitute for a lost best friend, really."

Bucky cracked a smile. "Then you don't know how half of our conversations usually went," he chuckled. "Stevie loves arguin', sometimes just for the sake of bein' contrary." Bucky shook his head. "I think it's a carry-over from when he was a tiny little twig most folks could just snap in half."

Stark tried to hide a smile. "Like those tiny, aggressive little dogs?" he suggested, eyes alight.

"My ma used to call him chihuahua," Bucky admitted, biting his lip.

Stark burst into laughter, a full belly-laugh that had him clutching his sides. It lit up his whole face, took years of worry off of him even though Bucky knew he was all of only twenty or so to begin with, and once again made Bucky take note of how handsome he was.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell him I know that," he wheezed, before sobering up immediately. "I mean… provided I get to see him again," he sighed.

Bucky stiffened. "You will," he said firmly, flexing his good arm and looking over his shoulder to scowl at the door.

Stark shrugged ambivalently. "Okay… so you're here to, what? Rescue me?" he asked, with a tone of skepticism Bucky did not at all appreciate.

"That's the plan," Bucky grunted, standing up and turning around slowly, so he could survey the room.

There was little bits of junk everywhere, piled in corners and on the tables pushed up against the walls. Little bits of metal, half-built little gadgets, a few broken metal plates, and even what appeared to be salvaged scrap from the train.

All things that would make excellent weapons in a pinch.

"Have they been bringing you this stuff, or was it already here when you got here?" Bucky asked, pausing to eye a bloodstained rag that was hanging out of a bowl next to Stark's cot.

"Little of both," Stark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "They were just bringing me whatever I asked without questioning - 'cept for Raza, the leader, they aren't all that bright, you see - but now…" His eyes moved over to the only other cot in the room, then the place on the floor where the dead man had been.

Bucky started connecting the dots. "That man they killed…" he began slowly.

Stark flinched and shook his head. "Yinsen," he said hollowly. "He… he was a doctor. Had already been here for a while, had…" He swallowed and closed his eyes, and brought his hands up to his chest. "I, I was hurt. In the train wreck. There, there was metal, in my chest." He tapped the center of his chest for emphasis, eyes still closed. "It, it was going to kill me, but Yinsen, he… saved me. Saved me, and helped me make something that could get the rest of the metal out, with some of the stuff the bandits kept bringing in. They thought I was building them the stuff they wanted, but…"

"When they found out you didn't, they killed him," Bucky finished, wincing.

Stark nodded, and opened his eyes. "He was my friend," he said quietly. "And now he's dead because of me."

"I'm sorry," Bucky said softly, after a few minutes of silence. "He sounded like a good man."

Stark huffed. "A better one than I," he said bitterly, setting his hands into his lap and clenching them into fists. "You should have just let them kill me. They're going to use you the same way they used Yinsen, and the second I do something wrong, they're going to take it out on you, as well."

Bucky scoffed. "They can try," he growled. "I'm tougher than I look. Besides, if I'd watched you die, I'd never have been able to look Stevie in the eye again." He lifted his chin and pointed towards the door. "You and I are getting out of here if I have to strap you to my back and fight my way out armed with nothing but a spoon, Lord Stark."

Stark raised his eyebrows. "We're way past any formalities. Call me Tony," he snorted, some of the light returning to his eyes. "And I'm starting to see why you and Steve are friends."

Bucky's grin was feral. "Takes a certain kind'a personality to handle him," he agreed, feeling pleased when that earned him a small smile.

"Don't I know it," Stark - Tony - sighed, shaking his head. "Though, speaking of Steve… how did he take it when he found out I was missing?"

Bucky coughed. "He, uh, actually doesn't know. Or at least, he didn't when I left."

Tony frowned and cocked his head. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You said Steve had sent you to come get me."

Bucky grimaced and sat back down, rubbing at his aching left shoulder and biting his lip.

"He did, but… okay, Lord - Tony, there's - that is, something happened, back home. You see, your father…"

* * *

Tony took the news of his father better than Bucky expected, though his drawn face and nervous tapping still showed his distress.

"But he's - he's alive?" Tony asked, frowning down at his lap. "My father, he's…?"

"He was when I left," Bucky replied, and though it was on the tip of his tongue to add an 'I'm sure he's fine,' he didn't.

Tony nodded to himself. "And they don't know who did it?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not that I know of. But your - aunt? - was supposed to be on the case."

Tony's shoulders slumped minutely. "Pegs, yeah," he said, smiling faintly while his eyes flashed in relief. "She always gets her man." He hunched in on himself. "At least she's okay. I wouldn't put it past anyone who wanted to go after Father to try and hurt her as well."

Bucky mulled that over, chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "This… probably isn't very sensitive, considering, but do you know if your old man had any enemies?" he asked carefully.

Tony chuckled humorlessly. "You want a list?" he asked darkly, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes.

Bucky grimaced. "That bad, huh?"

Tony sighed. "My father isn't the most… diplomatic of people," he said slowly. "It's made him a lot of enemies, and is one of the reasons people outside of Stark House were so happy to have Steve and I married, so the line of succession would go straight to me." He shrugged and wrinkled his nose. "I can't think of anyone who would want him _dead_ , though."

"Let's not worry about it now," Bucky suggested, flexing his left shoulder. "If you don't mind me saying, we've got more important things to worry about, anyway."

Tony nodded distractedly. "It's just… that this happened at the same time I…"

"Yeah," Bucky said quietly. "I've thought the same thing."

Tony paled. "Steve," he said, sitting up and staring at Bucky with wide eyes. "If someone is trying to get to me and my father, then Steve -"

"Has Fury's paranoid butt watching him like a hawk," Bucky finished, rubbing at his sore shoulder again. "He's prob'ly in better shape than either of us right now, in any case. Well, other than all the worrying he's probably been doing since he figured out the two of us are missing."

That earned Bucky a ghost of a smile, then a look of determination. "We've got to get out of here," Tony said, some of the steel Bucky had glimpsed before in his voice.

"You won't get any argument from me," Bucky huffed, managing to turn his grimace of pain into a smirk at the last minute.

Tony noticed anyway, though, and frowned. "What's wrong with your arm?" he asked, nodding towards Bucky's left shoulder.

Bucky bit his lip. "Busted," he grunted, shifting carefully and pulling it into his lap with his good hand. "Which is going to make escaping a little harder, but -"

"Can I see?" Tony asked, leaning forward and eyeing the arm thoughtfully.

Bucky hesitated. "It's - well, you _can_ , but I don't know how much good it'll do. It's, uh, it's not exactly a normal arm -"

"I know," Tony interrupted, eyes flicking up to Bucky's. "Steve - Steve told me about it," he added, tone apologetic.

Bucky grunted, not entirely sure how he felt about that. It didn't really matter now, though, so he started to pull his shirt off, movements awkward with one hand. If nothing else, maybe Tony could help Bucky rig it up so it wasn't dangling and putting so much pressure on his shoulder.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Tony grabbed his shirt to help him, tugging Bucky's useless arm free of its sleeve and politely not touching - or looking at - any of Bucky's bare skin.

Tony whistled and traced the scorch mark on the bicep with his thumb. "Damn, what happened to it?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"One of the bandits hit me with somethin'," Bucky mumbled, scowling at the memory. "Don't know what it was, but it felt like gettin' struck by lightning, and it hasn't worked since."

Tony winced in sympathy. "Sorry, that had to have hurt," he said, then bit his lip. "I don't… Yinsen had a little pain medicine, but we used it all the first day."

He sounded guilty, which made Bucky feel guilty as well when he remembered what Tony had said about being injured.

"The pain's not so bad," Bucky lied. "It's the uselessness that's gettin' to me. Well, that and trying to figure out what the hell it was they hit me with."

Tony made a face, then scooted back until he was sitting on his cot again. "There's a mineral, in the valleys north of here, that some of the researchers at Fort Mira discovered," he said slowly, hand moving to scratch at his chest nervously. "Under certain circumstances it creates a charge, like static electricity. I've been hoping to look into it as a fuel source, but…" He shrugged helplessly, and made a motion that encompassed the room. "It can also be used as an explosive. There was - well, not _a lot,_ but enough to make some trouble - on the train they took me from."

Bucky thought that over, trying to pick up what Tony wasn't saying. Then it clicked. "That… wouldn't happen to be one of the things they wanted you to build for them, was it?"

Tony gave him a thin smile, and tapped his nose.

"Yinsen and I used some of it to magnetize the metal fragments in my chest," he said, drumming his fingers against his knee. "The plan was to use the rest to blow the doors off, for our grand escape, but…"

Bucky leaned forward eagerly. "No, that's a good plan! Blow the doors off, escape in the confusion… hey, do you think you could make us one of those sticks they used against me?"

"I could," Tony said, nodding. "If I had any of the stuff to work with."

Bucky paused, the plans he'd been making in his head skittering away. "You… what? But… didn't you just say you had some?"

"Yep. _Had_. As in, I don't anymore," Tony sighed, reaching down and digging into his boot. "Or at least, not enough to do anything. This is all I have left," he said, pulling a small, blue pebble out of boot and holding it up for Bucky to see.

Bucky stared at it in despair. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's not enough to blow anything up, is it?"

Tony raised his free hand and made a so-so motion. "Technically, yes," he said, slipping the piece back into his boot. "But a piece this size won't hold a big enough charge to do any real damage to either a person or, well, a door. I'd need about four or five more pieces that size - plus a couple of other things in order to build the stuff that makes it go boom, but most of that is already here."

Bucky frowned thoughtfully, then peeked back over his shoulder to glance at the door. "I'm guessing the reason you don't have as much as you did before is because they took it when they realized you weren't building them what they wanted," he said, turning back to Tony and nodding towards him.

Tony scowled. "Yep."

"So they'll have to bring it back - or at least some of it - if they want you to build anything with it," Bucky continued, leaning forward with his elbow on his knee.

Tony nodded, his mouth turning up in a slow, sly smile.

"Do you think you could skim a little off each time, without them noticing?"

Tony grinned. "Are you kidding?" he snorted, rolling his eyes. "Like I said, they aren't all that bright. I think Raza is the only one with more than two braincells to rub together. It took them two weeks to realize I wasn't doing what they wanted me to do before." He stood up and walked over to one of the junk-strewn tables, then picked up a bucket that was sitting underneath. "It'll take time, but it should be a piece of cake."

"Cake is good," Bucky said, amused, while Tony rifled through the bucket's contents. "Time not so much, but I don't see any other way around it, so I guess it can't be helped."

"Cake is excellent," Tony retorted, marching back over with a handful of scraps and dropping them onto the crate nearest Bucky. "And time is literally all we have in this hell-hole, so we might as well use it. In the meantime..."

He scooted another crate closer to Bucky and sat down on it, then stared at Bucky expectedly.

"If you want me to come up with an entire plan right this second, you're going to be disappointed," Bucky told him, feeling exposed with his shirt half-on.

Tony scoffed. "Your arm," he said, rolling his eyes and waving his hand at Bucky's left side. "Might make escaping a little easier if we can get it working again."

Bucky blinked, taken aback. "You… you think you can?" he asked, looking down at it hopefully.

Tony shrugged. "No idea," he said. "But it's a problem in front of me that I can try to fix, right now. And, not to brag or anything, but I am a genius. If anyone could fix it, it would probably be me." He flashed Bucky a cocky grin that should have been grating, but which Bucky found oddly comforting instead.

"It's a good thing you're here with me, then," Bucky said easily, which seemed to surprise Tony. Bucky scooted to the very end of his crate and waved at his arm. "Have at it, Lord Genius."

Tony huffed and ducked his head to hide a small smile, then went to work.

* * *

 **AN** : So, I keep finding bits where my document keeps screwing with my formatting (mainly by putting extra spaces where the italics are, and by omitting my scene breaks entirely). I've been trying to fix them as I spot them, but some keeping slipping through the cracks (or mysteriously appearing after I've uploaded/published my doc), so please bear with me. ^_^'


	4. Chapter 4

Tony poked and prodded at the arm for what felt like hours to Bucky, staying mostly silent other than to ask Bucky if he could feel something or if he knew how something worked.

("Can you tell me how it moves?"

"Er, up and down?"

"...you, you have no idea how it works, do you?"

"I don't need to know how it works to use it. And nobody at Shield has ever been able to tell me.")

Eventually he pried off the panel by Bucky's bicep and fiddled with some of the stuff inside, but put it back after only a few minutes and told Bucky to put his shirt back on.

"They'll be coming in to make demands and bring food in a few minutes," Tony explained, pushing his bucket of tools out of sight and helping Bucky with his sleeve. "And I think it might be to our advantage if they think you still can't use your arm."

Bucky paused, a little bubble of hope welling up in his chest. "Does that mean you can fix it?" he asked, dropping his hand from the top fastening of his shirt, which Tony immediately went to work on.

Tony smirked, looking like the cat that had eaten the canary. "Not only can I fix it, but I think I can ground it so the same thing won't happen again," he said, stepping back and putting his hands on his hips in satisfaction. "So you'll be able to fight your way out with a spoon in each hand, if you want."

Bucky leaned back and stretched his legs, looking up at Tony and seeing the same smug, feral expression he was sure was on his face as well.

"You know, I think we just might have a chance of getting out of here after all," he said, just as the door started rattling.

Tony turned until he was facing the door and put his hands behind his head, eyes glittering dangerously. "Just so long as one of those spoons ends up in Raza's eye," he mumbled, jaw set.

* * *

As it turned out, getting the materials was actually the easiest part of their plan.

According to Tony, most of what they needed was already in their cell-cum-workshop, and the rest ended up being easier to steal than Bucky had thought.

The very next day, Tony managed to sneak a few chips of the mineral and a small length of wire he said he needed for Bucky's arm.

The day after that was some bolts and a tiny sheet of metal Bucky thought was too small to make a difference, but Tony had insisted he needed. More bolts and and another chip of the mineral were the next day's bounty, and then a flask of alcohol Bucky managed to pick-pocket from one of the guards.

It soon became a routine. The bandits would come in late in the afternoon with food and water, and a list of things they wanted Tony to make or repair for them. The next morning they would bring the supplies Tony requested, take inventory of what he had left, and then leave with whatever invention or weapon Tony had made after making a few threats. Tony would then work on some of the things the bandits wanted, going over what he thought he could skim from what he'd been given. Then he'd work on the things they'd decided they needed for their escape - the explosives, some weapons, and some armor - and Bucky's arm, which came along faster than Bucky could ever have hoped.

By the third day, Bucky could move his fingers.

On the fifth, he could lift it level with his shoulder.

After a week it was fully functioning, and better than it ever had before.

"This is amazing," Bucky gasped, rotating his shoulder and wiggling his wrist giddily. "I don't think it's ever moved this smoothly, and it doesn't hurt at all, either - you really _are_ a genius."

Tony scoffed and went back to the weapon he'd been working on - some kind of crossbow, by the looks of it - the tips of his ears turning pink. "Oh ye of little faith," he said, though Bucky could tell he was pleased to hear it.

What ended up being the hardest part was making it seem as though Bucky still couldn't use his arm. Once it was functioning, lifting and moving his arm was instinctual for Bucky - it swung when he walked, it reached if something was falling, and it scratched if Bucky had an itch. It was an effort in concentration for him _not_ to move it.

"It's too hard to keep it limp," Bucky said, two days after Tony had completed the repairs.

They'd just had a particularly close call; one of the bandits had shoved Tony towards him, and Bucky had instinctively raised his left hand to brace him. Luckily the bandit hadn't been paying attention - far too busy cursing at his fellows to hurry up with the supplies - but it had been a near miss, and Bucky didn't want a repeat. The bandits were already leery of him, and kept their guard up around him enough as it was. Bucky suspected that if they knew he could use both arms, they wouldn't leave him alone with Tony, and the very last thing either of them needed was to be separated right now.

Frowning in contemplation, Tony chewed the inside of his cheek.

"What if we make you a sling?" he suggested. He walked over to their cots and picked up one of their threadbare blankets, as well as a small length of leather from one of the junk piles. "It'll be easier than having it just hang there, and if we pad it enough, they won't be able to tell if your fingers twitch or not."

"It'll be better than trying to keep it still," Bucky agreed, pulling his arm up against his chest experimentally. Then he thought of something else that made him brighten up to the idea. "Plus it'll make a handy hiding spot," he added, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows.

Tony nodded in approval. "See? This is the kind of forward thinking that's going to get us out of here," he sighed happily, holding up the blanket and then chucking it at Bucky's head. "Start ripping, grunt."

* * *

There was a battered deck of cards Tony had secreted away in his cot, so when he and Bucky weren't building or planning their escape, they passed the time by playing.

"I feel as though a respectable gentleman of the court shouldn't be as good at these sorts of games as you are," Bucky grumbled one evening as he lost another hand.

Tony snickered and pulled some of the pebbles they were using as winnings towards him. "Respectable? Really? Somebody has been spreading lies about me," he said, and drew up another hand.

Bucky laughed and drew as well. "Don't let Stevie know," he warned. "He'll not have a word against you, and won't put up with anyone sullying your honor."

"Hey, I've played strip-poker with him," Tony retorted. "He knows exactly how unrespectable I am, in this regard, anyway."

Bucky snorted. "You're not serious," he said, only to raise his eyebrows when he saw the candor in Tony's expression. "He didn't! Steve knows how bad he is at poker. Surely he wasn't stupid enough to actually accept a challenge from you."

Tony's eyes shone mischievously. "Well, no," he said, and inspected his hand. "However, he _was_ stupid enough to suggest it." He shook his head sadly. "I told him we could stop when he got to his skivvies, but nooo. Stubborn bastard was determined to see it to the end, even though he was redder than a tomato and shivering from the draft."

Bucky dropped his cards and slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter.

"His Royal Highness, stark naked and blushing down to his chest," Bucky wheezed, clutching his sides.

Tony chuckled and gathered their cards, then shuffled the deck. "His Lordship," he corrected idly, before dealing out their hands and motioning for Bucky to draw first.

Bucky raised his eyebrows, then drew a card. "What?"

Tony looked up from his hand and drew a card of his own. "His Lordship," he repeated, mouth twitching a little. "Steve's title. It's 'His Lordship', not 'His Highness'."

Bucky cocked his head, trying to figure out if Tony's expression was due to his hand or Bucky's question. "What's the difference?"

Tony chuckled. "A crown," he said, mouth twitching again. "We're both 'His Lordship' until we're officially crowned. And even then, Steve is going to be 'His Majesty' since technically it's still Shield's reign, even though we'll both be ruling together. I'll be the one addressed as 'His Highness' for another three years, and when reign passes to Stark I'll be 'His Majesty' and Steve will be 'His Royal Highness'."

Bucky blinked. "That sounds very complicated," he said, and wondered if Steve actually knew any of this. He doubted it, since it had never come up in any of their conversations, or when Bucky would tease Steve about his new title.

Tony huffed. "Not really. Especially when you consider everything else we're going to have to deal with once we're on the throne." He frowned and looked down at his hand, some of the joviality leaving his expression. "Titles are pretty trivial in comparison when you're trying to work out trade deals and figure out which countries least want to kill you."

Bucky considered that for second, as well as Tony's darkening mood. "Yeah, but do I get locked in a dungeon or something if I accidently call one of you the wrong thing?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and keeping his expression serious.

Tony laughed, which was what Bucky had been hoping for. "Nah, I think we're just supposed to gasp and then shun you in public for a few months."

"Well, that could be awkward," Bucky noted, nodding gravely. "I don't think I can avoid calling Stevie a dumbass for any amount of time. What if I just avoid calling you anything? Do I get shunned if I call you 'hey, you'?"

"Not if nobody _hears_ you say it," Tony snickered, setting down his cards and then propping his chin up with his hand. "Though it does seem a shame to deprive you of the honor of calling Steve names… Maybe we can find a new position for you. 'Royal Bullshit Caller', or something of that ilk. Someone who's allowed to call us out on our crap without ever getting in trouble."

"I do that already. At least with Steve, anyway," Bucky pointed out. "Besides, isn't that the function of literally all of the other house heads?"

Tony shrugged, then grinned triumphantly when Bucky set down his (losing) hand. "Yeah, but they have to be polite about it, and won't be nearly as funny as you will," he said with remorse, scooting more pebbles towards him.

"I take that as a compliment, Your Soon-To-Be-Highness," Bucky said cheekily. It was his turn to deal, so he pulled the cards towards him.

"Tony," Tony corrected, giving him a crooked smile. "For you, always Tony."

* * *

"What do you think everyone is doing back home?" Tony asked Bucky late one night, when neither of them could sleep.

Bucky grunted and rolled over so he was facing Tony's cot. "What anyone does when someone as important as you goes missing, I s'pose. Panic, worry, and start looking for you."

Tony made a sound and turned to face him as well, propping his head up on his elbow. "They'll be worrying and looking for you, too," he said, brow furrowed. "Especially Steve. He'd bring down heaven and hell to find you - he did before."

"Yeah, but he knows I can handle myself. He's probably worrying himself sick about you," Bucky pointed out. "Him and your family."

Tony was quiet for a few seconds.

"Father might worry a little," he admitted finally, worrying his lower lip. "Jarvis and Ana and Pepper will be the ones who are really panicking. Peggy, though…" He smiled fondly. "Pegs is probably fighting Steve for the honor of rescuing me as we speak," he said wryly.

Bucky chuckled. "She sounds like a hell of lady, if you don't mind me saying," he said, which seemed to please Tony. "Fury seemed to think pretty highly of her. I've never heard Steve mention her, though."

"Uh, yeah, well… I, ah, might have purposely not introduced them," Tony said sheepishly, a hint of guilt creeping into his expression. "You see, she's… she may be Dad's baby sister, but she's only five years older than me. So she's always been more like my big sister than an aunt."

Bucky grunted again, then pushed himself to a sitting position. "Yeah, so?"

Tony made a face, then sat up as well, swinging his legs over the edge of his cot. "Well, the thing is, she'd always been really… protective. Of me," he said, chewing his lower lip. "Like, well, a protective older sister would be, I guess."

Bucky thought of Stevie, and nodded. "Makes sense," he said. "But what's that have to do with her meeting Steve?"

"Well - okay, you know Lord Quill?" Tony asked, bracing his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his hands.

"The head of Star House?"

"Yes, him. Always trying to get people to call him Star Lord when it's supposed to be Lord Star, if anything. Anyway, he was one of the many suitors my father tried to set me up with, before Steve. And, really, he wasn't bad. I mean, I liked him - well, not as much as Steve, or anything - and we were really compatible, personality-wise."

Bucky raised his eyebrows, and suddenly found himself irrationally irritated with Lord Quill, for no real reason. "Okay. And?"

Tony wrinkled his nose. "I mean, he - Star House land is in the Galaxy Islands. You've heard about all the strange shit that goes on down there. Supposedly they have a talking tree that helps defend the islands and attacks things, and Peter himself was raised by pirates, if you're to believe him. Nothing should faze him, and yet -" He shook his head. "Whatever Pegs said to him, he hasn't so much as _looked_ in my direction ever since."

Bucky laughed. "You're kidding."

Tony sighed. "I wish," he grumbled, leaning back until he was sitting against the wall. "There was a banquet at Marvel Castle last summer. Janet and Lady Kamala kept parading me across the ballroom just to see him sprint in the opposite direction."

Bucky laughed harder, and had to bury his face in his pillow to muffle it.

"You laugh," Tony huffed, though his eyes were sparkling. "But I want to remind you that Peggy is the only person I've met who scares Natasha Romanoff. So you'll have to excuse me for wanting to spare Steve."

"You're right," Bucky gasped once he'd recovered, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Poor Stevie would never have stood a chance." He shook his head, still snickering, before something else Tony had said caught up with him and made him pause.

"So, uh, you had a lot of suitors, before Steve?" Bucky asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He wasn't really surprised - Tony was good-looking, after all, and an all-around charming person to boot - but somehow the revelation made him feel… uneasy, almost.

Tony grimaced, then shrugged. "I guess," he said, tilting his head back and frowning at the ceiling. "I mean… it's to be expected, really. I'm the heir to the next ruling house - every aristocrat in the kingdom has tried to secure a marriage with me and either themselves or someone in their family since I was born."

"But that's - that's terrible," Bucky objected, indignation rising. "You're a person, for cripes sake! No an object, or a piece of property to bid on. I mean -" He shook his head and leaned forward. "What about love, or romance, or..." He trailed off as the memory of his conversation with Steve came to mind, then snapped his mouth shut, stomach clenching uncomfortably.

Tony's smile was pitying, but not unkind. "People like me don't marry for love," he said quietly, pulling his knees to his chest. "We marry for power or political reasons, or to strengthen ties between houses or even nations. I was always going to have an arranged marriage - if it wasn't Steve, it would have been someone else. And, trust me, if you had seen the men and women my father used to parade in front of me, you'd see why I'm so happy with Steve."

Bucky cleared his throat, and started picking at a hole in his blanket. That was… rather depressing, honestly.

"So you… you don't love Steve?" Bucky asked, against his better judgment.

Tony paused, then bit his lip, a faraway look in his eyes. "No, I - I wouldn't say that," he said carefully, ducking his head. "I - look, it's like I just said: people like me, we don't marry for love. We don't, we don't _get_ to marry for love. Sometimes, we get lucky and marry someone we actually like, and then maybe, just maybe, we grow to love them. That's what happened with my parents. Or at least, that's what they always told me."

He shook his head and looked back up at Bucky, eyes open and earnest.

"So I guess, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I - yes. Yes, I love Steve. As a friend, as a partner… as someone very, very important to me. But probably not the way you're thinking of, or the way Steve would like. Not, not yet, anyway. But I know I could. That I'll grow to, if I get the chance."

He let out a frustrated breath and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm explaining it all wrong, I -"

"No," Bucky said quietly, thinking of what Steve had said when Bucky had asked him the same question. "No, I think I know exactly what you're saying."

 _"I think I will, in time."_

Somehow, though, hearing Tony say it was even sadder.

* * *

Tony needed a forge to fashion some of the weapons the bandits requested. There wasn't one in his and Bucky's cell, of course - the bandits weren't smart, but they weren't _completely_ stupid, either - but there was one at the other end of the hideout, so a few times a week several of the bandits would collect the two of them and march them over to it, making sure to keep Bucky tied up and watching Tony like a hawk as he worked.

Today was one of those days, and Bucky noticed something was off right away.

For starters, there were about twice as many bandits escorting them, and before any of them had even spoken, Bucky could tell they were nervous. Then they gave Bucky the day's order to translate to Tony, whose brow furrowed.

"I can't make that much today," he protested, eyes darting between to the bandits. "That's - they only give me an hour or two at the forge, and that's almost twice what they usually want."

" _Then he will stay longer until he is finished_ ," snarled a bandit when Bucky repeated what Tony said, then shoved Bucky forward to make him walk.

Tony exchanged a puzzled look with Bucky that was broken when another bandit shoved him forward as well, but didn't say anything else.

The bandits whispered to each other the whole time they walked, but it wasn't until they were at the forge - which was in a cavernous room that allowed the sound to carry - that Bucky could hear any of what they were saying.

" _\- should have just left them in their cell. We have enough to transport as it is. I don't know what Raza is thinking._ "

" _He's thinking we could use the weapons, if the snakes are really coming. And besides, Stark will be useless and make more work for us when we're traveling - might as well have him make what he can today before we go._ "

Bucky's pulse quickened, but he didn't let anything show on his face or in his body language. He edged a little closer to the bandits, picking up a pan with small parts in it as he went, and then dropped it, pretending the clumsiness was due to his bindings and the use of one arm.

A few of the bandits looked down at him distastefully, but otherwise ignored him and kept talking. Tony looked as though he was going to come over and help, but Bucky shook his head and subtly motioned for him to stay where he was.

" _What about the one that killed Rowan_ ?" one asked, pointing his sword towards Bucky. " _He'll be much harder to transport. You saw what he did before, he's too dangerous not to keep an eye on._ "

" _Feh, we leave him behind. Translators are not so hard to come by, and besides - you saw how cooperative Stark became when we killed the last one._ "

The bandits all laughed, the cruelty overcome only by their palpable nervousness, which drew even Tony's attention.

Bucky shook his head at him again and scooped up the pan, then walked over and held it out to him.

"I'll tell you in a minute," Bucky whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "We need to get back to our cell."

Tony blinked, but otherwise kept his face blank. "How?" he asked without moving his lips, and pretended to inspect what Bucky had brought him.

"I don't know," Bucky murmured, mind whirling. "I -"

"Never mind, I have an idea," Tony whispered, picking up a piece at random and then turning back to the forge.

Putting his trust in whatever Tony had in mind, Bucky turned and started shuffling over to set the pan back down, then dropped it for real when Tony yelped behind him.

He spun around to find Tony clutching his left hand, face screwed up in pain, and dashed over to him, remembering at the last second to keep his left arm tucked in its sling.

"What happened?" Bucky demanded at the same time the bandits did, gently prying Tony's hand away from where he was holding it to his chest.

"Burned it," Tony hissed, wincing when Bucky tried to pry his hand open. "I took my glove off, forgot about it…"

" _What is the matter with him_?" one of their guards snapped, the ground crunching beneath his feet as he stepped closer.

" _He's hurt. I need some clean, cold water_ ," Bucky shouted over his shoulder, then turned back to Tony and narrowed his eyes.

"This is your idea?" Bucky hissed through gritted teeth, while one guard shouted at another to get the water. "Maim yourself?"

"It's not as bad as it looks," Tony hissed back, face still pinched as though he were in great pain. "I'm not an idiot - I just have to make it seem like I can't work."

A bandit appeared with a bucket of cleanish-looking water and plopped it down beside them, eyes mistrustful as they stayed on Bucky.

Jaw clenched, Bucky made a show of helping Tony clean his hand off and asked for a bandage, which he got with surprisingly little fuss.

" _He can't work_ ," Bucky said, once he was done helping Tony bandage his hand.

The same guard that had given him the bandage narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything.

" _He can't move his hand, and he can't make you the things you want without using two hands_ ," Bucky growled in frustration. " _And if he damages it further, he won't be any help to you at all -_ "

" _Fine,"_ snapped the guard that seemed to be in charge, nodding at the others and pointing his sword at Tony. " _Take them back to their cell, and give them extra water. I will inform Raza_."

* * *

Once back in the (relative) safety of their cell, Bucky took a better look at Tony's burn, and told Tony what he had overheard.

"So they're moving us tomorrow?" Tony asked, while Bucky re-bandaged his hand.

Bucky nodded, not bothering to correct the 'us'. "Apparently someone or something is getting close enough to make them antsy," he said, tying off the bandage and running his fingers experimentally over the top of it. "This changes things."

Tony nodded grimly. "We can't wait any longer. We don't have half the supplies we were going to need, but if we're going to escape, we'll have to do it tonight."

Bucky shook his head. "Tomorrow," he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "It'll be a rush trying to adjust the plan, but on the one hand, it'll be easier. They'll be distracted by the move, and getting out was half our plan anyway, so if we can get them to _voluntarily_ take you outside -"

"Us," Tony corrected, frowning at him. He flexed his hand as if testing it, then stood up and started pacing. "And what about all the things we needed? We've only got enough armor for one, I haven't gotten to make you your nifty little lightning stick yet, and I only have enough mineral - I've decided we're calling it buckium, by the way - for maybe a third of the charges we wanted. I'm not even sure if it'll be enough to blow the door off."

"If they take you outside, you won't need half of that stuff anyway," Bucky pointed out. "Other than the provisions - which we still haven't figured out how to get anyway - most of it was for getting out and past the guards."

Tony stopped pacing and narrowed his eyes. " _I_ won't need half of it, if they take _me_ outside - aren't you forgetting someone? What about you?" he asked, crossing his arms and frowning at Bucky.

"Let me worry about me," Bucky replied, avoiding Tony's eyes. "And you're not naming that stuff 'buckium', that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

The ground crunched under Tony's boots as he stepped closer, then crouched down until he and Bucky were eye-level. "We're leaving together," he said, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Bucky scowled back at him. "We may not get a choice in the matter," he said tersely. "They aren't planning on moving us together, Tony. And I have a better chance of fighting my way out by myself, so long as we can get you out first."

Tony's brow furrowed, his expression calculating. Bucky looked up into his eyes - easily the most expressive of Tony's features - and saw the exact second he pieced it together.

"They're not going to move you at all, are they?" Tony said, voice flat.

Bucky looked away, and then shook his head. "No," he said carefully. "But I'm certainly not going to lie down and die for them, either. We let them take you outside, like I said, and then I can catch up, and -"

"No," Tony said sharply, and stood back up. "We leave together, or we don't leave at all."

Bucky sighed. "We _will_ leave together, Tony. But if they're already moving you anyway -"

" _We leave together, or we don't leave at all_ ," Tony growled, fists clenched. "If we split up, there's no telling what might happen, and I, I can't -" He stopped and took a deep breath, then let it out. "No one else is dying for me," he said quietly, staring down at his feet.

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, then shut it, completely lost as to what to say. After a few seconds of silence, he stood up and carefully put his hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Yinsen wasn't your fault," Bucky said softly.

Tony gave a minute jerk beneath his hand, but other than that, made no inclination that he had heard him.

Bucky squeezed Tony's shoulder, then plowed on. "And I don't know about you, but I got no plans to die anytime soon, so however we decide to do this, you're stuck with me. That okay with you?"

Eyes still on the ground, Tony nodded, then reached up and put his left hand - the one Bucky had just bandaged - over Bucky's on his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay," he said hoarsely, then cleared his throat. When he finally looked up, his eyes were wet. "But I still say leaving you here to fend for yourself while they cart me off is a dumbass plan," he added, covering up whatever had just happened with his usual bluster.

Bucky snorted and cupped the side of Tony's neck briefly, then pulled back. "Okay, then, Lord Genius. What do you suggest?" he asked, ignoring the way Tony's cheeks colored.

Tony coughed, then turned away and walking over to his work table. He picked up one of the scraps of blanket leftover from Bucky's sling and turned around, holding it up against his face like a bandana.

"So," he asked, voice muffled by the cloth. "How good are you at disguises?"

* * *

That night, they didn't sleep a wink.

Instead, they prepared, huddled together in the corner farthest from the door so the guards wouldn't hear their whispers or see their lantern light through the door.

"You need to be the one to wear the armor," Bucky said, taking stock of what they had to work with. When Tony opened his mouth to protest, Bucky cut him off. "No, listen - of the two of us, who's actually trained in hand-to-hand combat, and can defend himself with a sword?"

Tony's mouth snapped shut, but the look he gave Bucky could only be described as petulant.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and grinned back at him. "Besides, I'll be in disguise, so it's not like I can wear it anyway. It'll be too noticeable. Now, weapons?"

"We've got the four knives that you stole, the end of a mace, our choice of rusty tools, and this," Tony said, digging through a pile of rags that had been one of their many hiding places and pulling out a crossbow. "I've modified it from its original size, so you should be able to sneak it under your clothes. We only have a dozen arrows, though, so we - well, you - need to make every shot count."

Bucky picked it up and tested the grip in his hand, amazed by how light it felt.

"It's a design I originally intended for Clint - Clint Barton, from Shield, you know…? Yeah, okay, of course you do - but anyway, it's made specifically for long-range accuracy, though up close and personal will work just as well." Tony huffed and rolled his eyes, then made a few adjustments to the small doohickey he'd been working on in his hand. "Hawkeye refused to give up his bow when I offered him one, but at least the design didn't go to waste."

"Barton's an idiot," Bucky replied absently, sighting down the crossbow. After setting it back down, he pointed at the thing Tony was working on with his chin. "What about that?"

Tony's grin was all teeth. "This, my friend, is one of our buckium bombs," he said, holding it up and then setting into Bucky's weary hand.

"I already told you, you're not naming it buckium," Bucky grumbled, gingerly turning the device around in his hand. "Seriously, this is… it? How does it work?"

Tony scoffed and scooted closer. "Don't let its looks deceive you," he warned. "The 'bang' won't be enormous, like dynamite, but it will be enough to blow your hand off, if you're not careful."

Bucky fumbled with it in surprise and nearly dropped it, but Tony caught and gently set it back into Bucky's hand. "Easy, it shouldn't go off now," Tony huffed, turning it around in Bucky's hand until a little raised piece of metal that resembled a key was facing Bucky.

"Shouldn't?" Bucky hissed, but Tony ignored him.

"You see this piece, here?" Tony asked, pointing to the little key. "You wind it up, like a clock. Once you do, you have sixty seconds to get as far away from it as possible. The boom won't be big, like I said, but you certainly don't want to be caught up in it."

Bucky nodded and frowned down at the little device thoughtfully. Then Tony took it from him, and set it on the ground with two others. "How many do we have?"

Tony grimaced. "Three, and I have enough supplies to make two more, so only five." He picked up one of the unfinished ones and started fiddling with it, face pensive. "I'll keep one, just in case, but I think you should take the rest."

Bucky nodded his agreement. "Maximum chaos," he murmured, more to himself than Tony, though Tony hummed in approval.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN** : I uploaded two chapters today, so if you skipped to the newest chapter (this one) make sure you go back and read chapter 4 as well. Happy reading~

* * *

A few hours later, at what Bucky estimated was early morning, they set their plan in motion.

Since the first day with Tony, Bucky had made it a habit to keep track of the bandits guarding the door. They usually guarded in sets of two, with six shift changes throughout the day, with the exception of the very early morning shift. Bucky didn't know what the reason was - if it was the same guards every day and one had a quirk, or if there was another duty the morning shift had to perform - but every morning, at what Bucky estimated to be around dawn, one of the guards left, for anywhere from five to fifteen minutes.

Which meant, for at least five minutes every day, there was only one guard at Bucky and Tony's door.

Bucky pressed his ear to the door and listened carefully. Five minutes passed, then ten, but Bucky could still hear two voices speaking on the other side. Then, just as Bucky was starting to worry that the move had disrupted the guards' schedule, he heard one say something to the other, and heavy footsteps as someone jogged away.

Smirking, Bucky pushed away from the door and gave Tony a thumbs-up.

"Okay," Tony breathed, and squared his shoulders. "Showtime."

Bucky gave him an encouraging smile, then dashed over to his cot.

"Hey!" Tony yelled, and banged on the door. "Hey! Hello? I need some help in here!" He banged on the door a few more times, his shouting becoming more panicked, until the guard snarled something back and the swung the door open, sword pointed threateningly at Tony.

" _What?"_ he snarled, pushing the door closed behind him and motioning for Tony to back up a few steps.

Tony shifted nervously and pointed towards Bucky. "I think - I think he's sick," he said, hugging himself. "He's not - I can't wake him up."

The guard frowned at Tony - likely only picking up about a third of what he'd said - then glanced over at Bucky, still and unmoving under the blanket he'd hastily thrown over himself.

The guard looked back at the door, then sighed and approached Bucky's cot. " _Hey, you. Wake up._ "

When Bucky didn't move, the guard cursed and stomped closer. " _Hey, are you dead? I said get up!_ " he snapped, and poked at Bucky's shoulder.

It was the last move he made.

Quick as a flash, Bucky yanked the man forward by his wrist and caught his throat in his left hand, making sure to put plenty of pressure on it so he couldn't cry out.

 _Finally_ , purred the voice of the Soldier in Bucky's head, making Bucky's stomach curdle.

Bucky closed his eyes, and when he next opened them, the guard was dead.

"W-well, that was easy," Tony said, voice higher than normal. Bucky chanced a glance at him over his shoulder, and found Tony staring down at the dead man with wide eyes.

"Had to be done," Bucky replied gruffly. "Can't risk him waking and warning the others. Help me with his clothes."

Tony nodded, still wide-eyed, and scrambled over to help.

A few minutes later, Bucky was dressed head to toe in the typical garb of one of the bandit grunts.

"How do I look?" he asked Tony, pulling the bandana up over his nose.

Tony took a step back and cocked his head. "Pull the head piece farther down over your eyes," he suggested.

Bucky complied, but Tony still looked apprehensive.

"I won't look anyone directly in the eye," Bucky told him, adjusting his newly-acquired sword on his equally new belt. "Are you sure you can get the armor on by yourself?"

Tony nodded, chewing on his lip nervously. "I'll be fine. Are you sure -"

"As I'm going to be," Bucky said, double-checking that his crossbow was well-hidden under his tunic. He realized he was stalling when he checked his sword again, and took a deep breath. "Well. Guess I'll see you on the other side," he said, pulling down his bandana so he could smile faintly at Tony.

Tony blanched. "Wait!" he blurted, and grabbed Bucky's sleeve when he started towards the door. "Wait, I -" He stopped, eyes darting to the door, then reached behind his neck and pulled the necklace Bucky had noticed him wearing off over his head.

"This is my engagement present from Steve," Tony said quickly, and held it out to Bucky.

The necklace was simple-looking, but no less elegant; on a cord rather than a chain, the pendant was a polished red stone in the shape of a near-perfect tear drop. Now that he knew what it was, Bucky could see Steve picking it out, and thought it suited Tony well.

"Red jasper," Tony added, at Bucky's questioning look. "Put it on."

Bucky felt his face heat. "What? I can't," he started, and pushed it back at Tony. Tony was insistent, however, and the look on his face gave Bucky pause. "It's just… why?" he asked, throat dry.

"Because Steve apparently spent a lot of time picking it out, and if I lose it, he's going to be epically pissed at me," Tony replied, voice even. "So if you don't want me to face his wrath..." Tony looked down. Bucky noticed his knuckles were white where they gripped the necklace's cord. "If you're wearing it, you have to come back to me in one piece," he said softly. "Got it?"

Bucky swallowed, then bent down so Tony could slide it over his head. Once it was on, Bucky slipped it under his clothes, were it settled against the bare skin over his heart.

"I'll take good care of it," Bucky promised quietly, taking Tony's hand and pressing it against his chest so he could feel the stone under his clothes.

Tony's face flashed in relief. "Good," he said, voice shaky. "Because the only thing I dread more than telling Steve I lost that pendant is telling him I lost his best friend, too." He cleared his throat awkwardly, then gave Bucky a shove. "Go. Break a leg."

Bucky nodded, feeling oddly bereft without Tony's hand on him anymore, then slipped the bandana back over his face. "I'll leave the door unlocked," he reminded Tony.

Tony waved his hand. "Yeah, gotcha, stick to the plan. But seriously, break a leg. Break several. It'll make it easier for us to escape if they can't chase us -"

The door closing muffled Tony's voice, but it didn't cut it off entirely to Bucky's enhanced hearing. So Bucky still heard it when Tony added, "Be careful," in a small voice.

* * *

Bucky had barely gotten the cell door closed when the second guard returned, a canteen of something in one hand and a suspicious glint in his eye.

" _What is wrong?"_ he asked as he approached, head tilted towards the door.

" _Stark's cellmate is dead_ ," Bucky replied gruffly, keeping his head down. " _It looks as though a fever took him in the night._ "

The guard recoiled immediately. " _Is it contagious?_ "

Bucky shrugged. " _Do I look like a doctor? How would I know? At least it saves us the trouble of getting rid of him_." He pointed down the hall with his chin. " _Raza should probably be told, yes? I'll -_ "

" _I'll go,"_ the other guard said hastily, shuffling backwards and giving the door the hairy eyeball. " _They should be coming for Stark soon, anyway,_ " he added, before dropping his canteen and dashing back up the hall.

Bemused, Bucky watched him go, privately thanking any deities listening that the man was a germaphobe. After another minute or two, once he was sure the guard wasn't coming back, Bucky sprinted off as well.

Recalling the mental map he'd been making during their trips to the forge, Bucky headed towards the other side of the hideout, making sure to keep his head down and his stride purposeful. It worked - he ran into a handful of bandits on the way, but no one gave him a second glance, and he made it to the forge in just a few minutes without incident.

He heard some shouting up the corridor and ducked into what appeared to be some sort of storage room beside the forge. The voices passed - cursing and complaining about lazy companions - and in the meantime, Bucky used the opportunity to give the room a quick once-over. Several of the crates had familiar-looking crests on them - one even had Shield's eagle - and appeared to be some of the missing supplies looted from the train.

Well. Seemed like as good a spot as any.

Time to move onto phase two of the plan - distraction.

Keeping his eyes and ears open for any more bandits, Bucky fished into his pockets for one of Tony's buckium - ugh, Tony _had_ to think of a better name - bombs.

"Okay, Tony. Let's hope this works," he muttered as he wound it up. Once that was done, he dropped it into one of the open crates and hastily bid his retreat.

Bucky bumped into another bandit on his way out, who made several colorful assumptions about Bucky's mother and then demanded to know where he was going in such a hurry.

Bucky ignored him, counting off forty seconds in his head as he ducked around the corner, and -

 _BOOM!_

Bucky blinked, counting back in his head again and frowning to himself. Okay, closer to forty seconds than the sixty Tony had told him; he could still work with that.

More shouting - sounding distinctly more panicked, to Bucky's satisfaction - and a group of six barreled by. One slowed and tilted his head at Bucky, who waved him off.

" _Hit my head - I think the explosion was in the forge_ ," Bucky told him, leaning against the wall and keeping his head down.

The man grunted in affirmation and dashed off after his fellows. As soon as his back was turned Bucky straightened and continued on down the hall, taking note of how many bandits passed him as he went.

He stopped when he came to an open cavern with a few low tables and hastily abandoned cups and bowls of food - some kind of common or dining area, most likely.

There were a few canteens lying around on some of the tables. Bucky felt around until he found a full one and slipped it over his shoulder, then dug in his pocket for another bomb.

" _What_ is _that?"_ someone asked, just as Bucky had wound the little bomb to the last click.

Bucky looked up and found a bandana-less bandit staring back at him, face scrunched up in confusion.

" _Good-luck charm_ ," Bucky replied cheerfully. " _Here, catch._ "

The bandit blinked in surprise, but caught the little orb easily. Bucky didn't wait to see what he did with it - he turned and bolted from the room, just as half a dozen more bandits came barreling in from the other side, shouting " _Intruder! There's an intruder in the_ -"

 _Boom._

Bucky grinned to himself, and began backtracking towards Tony again.

The bandit who'd been guarding Bucky and Tony's cell door barreled into him when Bucky turned a corner, making Bucky stumble and knocking the other to the ground.

" _What's happening? What's going on_?" he asked in a panic, dropping his sword as he scrambled back to his feet.

" _There's an intruder_ ," Bucky told him, and slammed his left fist into the man's face.

He crumbled with a broken howl, which Bucky silenced by punching him again.

" _Stark is gone!_ " someone shrieked from somewhere up ahead. " _Tell the others_ , _Stark is -_ "

The sound of another explosion was music to Bucky's ears, and let him identify which direction Tony had gone.

Scooping up the downed bandit's sword, Bucky took off down the corridor, hoping Tony had remembered the crude map Bucky had tried to draw for him in the dirt floor of their cell. He encountered another lone bandit at the next corner, and jammed one of his swords into the man's leg and the other into his heart. Another he ran into got a knife thrown at his throat, and two more were dispatched by Bucky's new crossbow, which was rapidly becoming Bucky's second favorite thing after freedom.

By the time Bucky made it to the mouth of the cave, he'd dispatched over a dozen bandits, gained two more knives and another sword, and was short only six arrows.

The warm, gentle breeze that blew at his clothes when Bucky finally stepped outside was like a smack in the face, but a refreshing one after weeks of breathing in the stale air of the cave. It was enough to give him pause, which nearly proved fatal when an arrow whizzed by Bucky's head, catching his bandana and leaving a thin slice across his left cheek.

" _There you are_ ," growled a voice to Bucky's right, giving Bucky just enough warning to duck a blow from a very familiar, glowing mace.

Bucky swung his sword upwards as he straightened back up, leaving a long, shallow slice down the bandit's chest. The bandit roared and whipped his mace sideways towards Bucky, who spun out of his reach and lifted his sword again, this time to block a downswing from another bandit who had joined the fray.

Another arrow whizzed by, this one scraping against Bucky's side before burying itself in the wall behind him. Bucky heard a snarl and glanced back, vicious satisfaction shooting through him when he saw that the mace-wielding bandit trying to free himself from his cloak, which had been caught and pinned to the wall by the arrow as well.

Then he got a closer look, and realized that the cloak looked familiar. "That's mine," Bucky growled, kicking the legs out from under the bandit he was currently engaged with and disarming him with a swing of his blade.

The bandit snarled back at him again, finally freeing himself from the wall, then charged him, mace held above his head threateningly.

Bucky turned his sword in his hand and got ready to meet him, but before he could so much as raise his blade a tiny explosion of pain tore into his right arm. Bucky grunted, the pain and involuntary spasm of arm making his sword fall to the ground in a clatter, and looked down to find an another arrow sticking out of his bicep.

 _Fuck._ He'd forgotten about the archer.

Distantly, Bucky heard someone cry his name, but he had no time to parse it out or answer. The bandit gave a furious, triumphant shout and swung the mace at Bucky's head, and Bucky, with a feeling of deja vu, lifted his left arm to block it.

The impact was like an explosion in Bucky's ears - but with none of the burning, screaming pain he'd been expecting, like before. Instead he felt a long, drawn-out sense of tension that traveled through his bones and set his teeth on edge, almost as though a gong had gone off inside his skull. The bandit cried out as he was thrown backwards from the force, his back slamming into the boulder behind him with a sickening crack before he fell to the ground, still and unmoving.

Rattled and dizzy, Bucky stumbled to his feet and yanked the arrow out of his arm, heedless of the blood, then shuffled drunkenly over to the downed bandit.

"Mine," Bucky hissed savagely, and yanked his cloak away from the man. He picked up the mace, too, for good measure, and leaned one shoulder against the boulder beside him while he tried to get his equilibrium back.

He felt like he was forgetting something. Something important. Something -

Another bandit appeared in front of him, sword raised, but before he could swing an arrow appeared in his neck, and he dropped to the ground.

"What the hell are you doing? Taking a nap?" someone shrieked shrilly to Bucky's left.

Bucky winced and looked over his shoulder, sighing in relief when he spotted Tony quickly and awkwardly trudging towards him.

"Your arm-thing worked. Sort-of," Bucky panted, turning and willing himself not to throw up from the vertigo. Then he noticed the crossbow in Tony's hands, and the fact that his armor didn't have any sort of headpiece. "Isn't your... head supposed to be covered? What happened to the… face plate?"

"Lost it," Tony replied tersely, eyes darting around and hands clenching tighter around the crossbow. "Too hard to see to shoot. Now, less talking, more running for our lives. Come on, the horses are just over there."

Bucky nodded, swallowing down nausea and pushing himself up and away from the boulder. Then it clicked what Tony had said about aiming.

"Did you _shoot_ me?" he asked incredulously, clumsily fastening his cloak.

Tony looked offended. "No, I did not shoot you. I hit the guy who did with a rock, and stole this -" He held up the crossbow. "- from him. How many bombs do you have left?"

Bucky blinked and closed his eyes, his rattled head making his thoughts slow and clumsy. "Uh, two," he said slowly, fumbling towards his pockets.

Tony made a frustrated noise and reached into Bucky's pocket himself, yanking out one of the bombs and winding it up. He then chucked it into the mouth of the cave and turned to Bucky, mouth a thin line.

"Please don't throw up on me," he told him, before ducking under Bucky's shoulder and helping him support his weight.

Bucky grunted thankfully and half-ran, half-shuffled along at Tony's side.

Another satisfying boom echoed behind them, followed by muffled screaming and yelling.

"Can you ride a horse?" Tony panted once they'd reached their destination, letting go of Bucky so he could untie an ansty, well-built chesnut.

Bucky staggered sideways and ran into the horse's flank, another wave of dizziness making him ill.

"Not by myself," he admitted, shaking his head and straightening back up.

Tony let out a stream of curses, glancing back towards the approaching voices. "We'll have to ride together, then," he said quickly, locking his fingers together in order to give Bucky a boost up. "A cart or a wagon will be too slow. Fuck, I hope my armor isn't too heavy…"

Bucky somehow managed to swing his leg over and grab the reins Tony handed him without falling, and helped yank Tony on behind him.

Tony wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist to steady him. "Are you sure don't want me to -"

"No, I'm fine!" Bucky answered, even though he wasn't sure he was. Either way, the choice was taken out of their hands when more bandits started pouring around the corner, shouting furiously and weapons at ready.

"Go go go!" Tony yelled at the same time Bucky spurred their horse on.

They were blocked in by bandits and half-loaded wagons on the east side, facing the desert, so Bucky went west, towards the mountains.

"Are they following us?" Bucky shouted, keeping his eyes on the terrain as they starting climbing up one of the mountain paths.

A barrage of arrows zoomed by them. "Yes!" Tony yelled back, ducking his head and then cursing some more when he dropped his crossbow.

More arrows whizzed by as they turned a corner, at least two glancing off the back and side of Tony's armor.

"I'm fine!" Tony cried before Bucky could ask, the grip on his waist getting tighter.

"How many are there?" Bucky asked, mind whirring as he caught sight of a fork up ahead.

"Uh, at least ten!" Tony replied, his grip slackening as he twisted around. "It's hard to tell, the path's not big enough for all of their horses!"

"Good," Bucky muttered, and aimed for the narrower road.

Their horse flew up the path, which was at a steeper incline than the previous one. Bucky threw a glance over his shoulder and regretted it when it caused another wave of dizziness, but was pleased to see the bandits had been forced to take the path one horseman at a time.

"We're too heavy - we're slowing down!" Tony cried as their horse started struggling. "They're gaining!"

"We've still got one bomb left," Bucky shouted back, desperately spurring their horse faster.

Tony didn't have to be told twice - one arm left its death grip on Bucky's waist to fumble at his pockets. Bucky prayed he hadn't dropped the thing during their chase, and let out a sigh of relief when Tony let out a little "Yes!" and pulled his hand back.

"I'm gonna have to throw it at the last second," Tony yelled into Bucky's ear, trying to hold on and wind up the bomb at the same time. "Otherwise they'll all be long past by the time it blows."

Bucky didn't reply verbally, too busy concentrating on the increasingly dangerous and windy path.

Then he remembered a very crucial bit of information Tony was missing.

"It's forty seconds, not sixty!" he shouted, glancing over his shoulder to see Tony holding the bomb aloft.

"What?"

" _Throw it_!" Bucky screamed.

Tony complied; less than two beats later, the bomb exploded.

Bucky heard a scream behind them but didn't dare chance a glance back, another wave of vertigo making it hard to stay upright.

"It's working," Tony cried. "The path behind us is blo- _look out_!"

Bucky yanked the reins back, spotting the tumbling rocks ahead of them at the same time Tony did. Their horse reared back and slipped, tumbling sideways and throwing both Tony and Bucky from its back.

The last thing Bucky heard, before something hard and heavy smacked into the back of his head, was Tony screaming his name.


	6. Chapter 6

The first thing Bucky became aware of was an odd, intermittent, almost rumbly hiss.

 _Swish, swish_ , stop. _Swish, swish,_ stop.

The second thing he became aware of was a dull throb in his skull and ribs, as well as a burning pain in his right leg. He groaned and shifted, which his ribs and head protested to, then slowly opened his eyes. This led to the third awareness, which was the fact that he was, apparently, moving.

Grunt. _Swish, swish_ , stop. Mumbled swearing. _Swish, swish_ , stop.

Bucky blinked and turned his head to the side. His vision was blurry, but he could still see the dirt and rocks that made up his surroundings slowly move by, in a pattern that seemed to coincide with the rumbling and swishing. Wait… was he… was he being dragged?

Just as he came to this realization, whatever he was being dragged on hit a bump, which jarred his leg and startled a groan out of him.

The swishing - and the movement - stopped. "...Bucky?"

Bucky groaned again, and twisted his head towards the source of the voice. "Tony?"

"Oh, thank fuck," the voice replied, and then the sweaty, dirty, worried face of Tony Stark swam into Bucky's vision. "I thought you were never going to wake up - are you okay? Are - you know what? Don't answer that, that's a stupid question, of course you aren't okay, otherwise you wouldn't be laying there. God, but you're conscious, so there's something, unless I'm hallucinating again, in which case please don't tell me because this is a lot nicer than wandering around in the dirt and wondering if the sun or the concussion will kill me first."

Bucky stared at him blearily. "Wha?"

Tony's throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his lip trembled a little. "Here," he said, opening a canteen and carefully bringing it to Bucky's mouth. "Just a little sip, okay?"

Bucky nodded, wincing when the motion made his head hurt even worse, then moaned gratefully when the cool liquid hit his parched throat.

Tony had to all but pry the canteen away from him, but Bucky forgave him when he splashed some of the water on scrap of cloth and brushed it over Bucky's face.

"What's your name?" Tony asked, brow still furrowed in worry.

"B-bucky," Bucky groaned, lifting his right hand to rub at his eyes. "You're Tony, and last I checked, we were running for our lives from our kidnappers, who I think were very close to killing us. What happened?"

Tony sighed and sat back on his heels, his face relaxing in relief. "Well, we almost died," he said, smiling faintly. "The good news is, I don't think any actual dying happened, we escaped, and they don't seem to be following us."

Bucky squinted back at him. "What's the bad news?"

"We're trapped in the valley, we have no food, your leg is broken, and I don't know how we're going to climb out with you in that condition," Tony said, rocking back and forth on his heels listlessly.

"The… valley?" Bucky asked, the words thick and clumsy on his tongue. He tried to shift his weight, but the stiffness in his leg made it nearly impossible to get comfortable. He looked down at it, and noticed for the first time the clumsy splint Tony had made with a thick branch and what looked like strips of the bandit's tunic he'd been wearing.

"The valley we fell into," Tony said patiently, the worry returning to his expression. He leaned over and pressed his hand to Bucky's forehead. "Fuck, I can't tell if you're running a fever or if you're just warm - I've been trying to stay in the canyon's shadow, but -"

"How long have I been out?" Bucky interrupted, looking up towards the sky and noticing, with some degree of panic, that the sun looked as though it was close to setting.

It had barely been up when they'd escaped the cave.

Tony's face pinched. "A few hours," he hedged, taking the damp cloth and wiping at Bucky's brow again.

Bucky caught his wrist, his stomach flipping unpleasantly. "A few _hours_?"

Tony grimaced. "A few hours, most of the day…" He wrung his hands nervously, and gnawed on his lip. "Those idiots probably think we're dead, but I didn't figure staying in one spot was a good idea. I lost most of the rest of the armor in the fall, but I still had the back and breastplate, so I jury-rigged a sled with that and some of the wood from a few old wagons that had fallen down here, and started heading north. I don't know how far we've gotten - you're _heavy_ , you know that? - but the cliffs aren't as steep as they were."

Bucky stared at him for second, trying to wrap his head around the words. "You - you've been dragging me. For most of the day," he said slowly, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the sled.

The was a rustle of cloth as Tony moved again. "Uh, yes?" Tony replied, sounding befuddled. "Like I said, I didn't want to stay in one spot, and you're heavy, so carrying you was out, and -"

And it had apparently never even occurred to him to leave the injured, possibly dying man behind so he could get to safety.

Bucky wasn't really surprised, but he still didn't know whether to yell at him or hug him.

Eyes still closed, Bucky reached out until he had Tony's wrist again and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you," he said quietly, before cracking his eyes open.

Tony was still looking at him funny, as though worried Bucky's brain was addled - which it might have been - but smiled down reassuringly at him.

"You're welcome?" he said, though he obviously didn't know what Bucky was thanking him for.

He then picked the canteen up and offered it to Bucky again, but Bucky declined; he didn't know how much water they had, but if Tony had really been moving them for that long, then he needed it more than Bucky did.

Clearing his throat, Bucky moved to sit up again, pleased when this time was more successful than the last. "Though, not to criticize your plans or anything, why are we heading north? The kingdom is that way," Bucky pointed out, indicating the direction from which they'd come.

"Yes, but so are the bandits," Tony replied, opening the canteen and taking a sip. "I figured if we kept heading north, we'd eventually hit the coast, and then we could head west and get back that way. It's longer, but it has the distinct advantage of not being in the path of a gang of thugs that want to kill us."

Bucky wrinkled his nose. Well, when he put it like that…

"Technically, they only want to kill me. They just want to enslave you," Bucky remarked, laying back down. He noticed for the first time that there was something soft under his head, and caught a glimpse of the fabric of his cloak when he turned for a better look.

For some reason, the realization that Tony had been thoughtful enough to give Bucky a pillow while he'd been sweating and dragging him through the valley made something in Bucky's gut twist.

Tony gaped at him. Then he burst into laughter, which Bucky joined in on a second later.

"Oh, God, I'm glad you're alive," Tony gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "You have a certain way of putting things in perspective."

Bucky grinned lazily back at him. "I could say the same about you," he said quietly, noting the way Tony's hands were shaking. He didn't think Tony heard him over his own gasps.

* * *

It was another hour before Tony could be persuaded to stop for the night, and even then it was only because Bucky had threatened to roll off the sled if he didn't.

"I still think we could have gone farther," Tony grumbled sulkily once they had made camp, ripping Bucky's bandit tunic into more strips for some reason. "Are you sure this fire is a good idea? What if someone sees it?"

"It's not that big, and it's too cold at night to go without," Bucky replied, counting the amount of knives he had left. He'd lost his sword, and Tony said the crossbow had been destroyed in the fall, but most of the knives hidden in his cloak were still there. "We're far enough in, and I don't think anyone will notice."

Tony didn't say anything to that, but his grumpy silence was enough to gauge what he thought on the matter.

Bucky sighed. "We need rest, Tony, or we'll drop dead of exhaustion before we hit the coast."

Or, well, Tony would. Bucky would probably be fine, but if Tony thought otherwise he was more likely to take care of himself.

Tony stopped what he was doing and looked down, shoulders hunched. "We need to figure out a way to climb out of the valley," he said slowly, brow pinched thoughtfully as he stared into the fire. "The bottom here isn't so bad, but even at the least steep point, there's no way I can pull you up by myself."

Bucky shrugged. "I'll probably be healed enough to climb by the time we get there," he said, sliding his favorite knife back into its sheath.

Tony got quiet again, and when Bucky looked up, it was to find him staring at him with the same expression he'd worn earlier when he'd been concerned for fevers.

"Bucky, your leg is broken," Tony said carefully, as though trying to gently break the news to him.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I know. I can feel it, remember?" He sat up and patted the top of his knee for emphasis. "If I remember the distance correctly, though, it shouldn't take but a few more days to get to the end of the canyon, right?"

"You're not going to heal a broken leg in a few days," Tony said flatly, turning and scooting closer to Bucky.

Bucky stilled, a cold sensation washing over him.

Tony didn't know. Bucky had thought, if Steve had told him about the arm and HYDRA, that he'd know about his healing and everything else, too, but…

Tony didn't know.

And the thought of telling him made Bucky feel ill.

"I will," Bucky said quietly, very deliberately not looking Tony in the eye.

He could still feel Tony's eyes on him, though, when Tony asked, "What?"

Bucky cleared his throat. "I will," he repeated, picking up a stick so he could stoke the fire. "I heal fast."

Tony made a noise of dissent.

"Nobody heals that fast. Nobody except -" Tony froze, and Bucky could picture his eyes widening. "- Steve. But you, you didn't..." He stopped, then scooted even closer, close enough that his arm brushed against Bucky's. "Steve's the only one Erskine ever tried his elixir on, isn't he?"

Bucky nodded, biting his lip. "As far as I know. But…" He sighed, then took a deep breath. "I - you know about HYDRA. About them taking me, and that when they had me, they made me do… things."

"Of course," Tony said, his voice hushed. Bucky chanced a glance at him and caught him watching Bucky with sad, worried eyes. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Bucky swallowed. "That's not… they… did things, to me. Things that made me faster and stronger and more… hardy, than any regular soldiers could be." He looked down at his lap, remembering the coppery smell and taste of Zola's cup, and shivered. "Whatever they did that made me complacent, that's not the only thing it did. I heal faster, now. Broken bones, torn muscles, wounds that should fester… what would kill a normal person and take weeks for them to heal, I can come back from in a matter of days. This -" He tapped his leg. "I give it less than a week before I can walk again. Two, and it'll seem as though it never happened."

Tony didn't say anything right away. Then the arm that was brushing Bucky's moved, and Tony's hand slid over to Bucky's. "I'm sorry," he said softly, gently prying Bucky's clenched right fist open. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

He huffed lightly, then caught Bucky's eye and bumped his shoulder. "I can't really say I'm sorry you're harder to kill, though," he added, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

Something in Bucky's chest loosened. "That is one of the few perks," he agreed with a chuckle, returning Tony's shoulder bump with one of his own.

"Certainly makes our prospects of climbing out of here less bleak," Tony said brightly. He let go of Bucky's hand, to Bucky's disappointment, and picked up one of the strips in his lap. "In the meantime, though, I need to rebind your splint."

Bucky huffed and let Tony lift his leg into his lap, the discomfort of having his leg moved overshadowed by the coziness of the other man's body heat.

"You know, healing or not, Steve is going to shit himself when I finds out I broke you," Tony commented, pulling Bucky's leg up a little higher and adding another binding.

Bucky snorted and leaned back as Tony tightened it, then started on another one. "Not as much as he is when he finds out I threw you off of a cliff," he huffed, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "But really, who are we kidding? He's probably way past that stage already, since the moment he figured out we were both missing." He tried to hide a wince when the next knot jarred his leg, but Tony saw anyway, and patted his knee in apology. "I don't envy Fury or anyone else he's working with, right now."

"He's probably doing the jaw thing," Tony agreed distractedly. "You know, that thing he does when he's about to pick a fight over something?"

Bucky wheezed out a laugh and nodded. "Makes you wonder how he does it, you know? My teeth hurt just lookin' at him."

Tony tied off one last knot and then sighed in relief. "There, last one. You're all set." He gave Bucky a tired smile and gently patted Bucky's knee. "I'll probably have to keep tightening them again if they loosen up, but..."

Bucky grunted and leaned up on his elbows. "Thanks," he panted, carefully lifting his leg and then dropping it back into Tony's lap with a gasp.

"Don't move," Tony said, frowning and lightly squeezing Bucky's calf. "Pretend Steve is here glaring you into submission and doing his jaw thing."

Bucky chuckled and nodded, letting his head fall back against the ground. He closed his eyes and gave his leg one more experimental wiggle, and felt Tony squeeze his calf again in reproach.

"Gotcha, no moving," Bucky grunted, opening his eyes. "Oh, speaking of Steve's wrath…" He leaned forward and slipped his hand down his shirt, pulling Tony's pendant out and sliding it over his head. "Safe and sound, as promised."

One corner of Tony's mouth ticked up a fraction. Then he looked down at Bucky's leg. "Not entirely safe and sound," he muttered unhappily.

"S'not so bad," Bucky hummed self-consciously. "Better than dead, anyway."

Tony's face pinched. "That's not funny," he mumbled, taking the pendant and sliding it over his neck.

Bucky reached up and slid his hand under it without thinking, running his thumb over the smooth stone. "You know, Steve wouldn't have been angry if you'd lost it," he pointed out.

Tony looked down at Bucky's hand, a small, melancholic smile playing at his mouth. "No, but he'd probably be disappointed," he sighed, shaking his head. "And I - there's a lot of things I can take from him, but I cannot handle his disappointment. The Steve-Rogers-is-disappointed-in-you face is just… no." He shook his head again, his hand coming up to hold the stone as well.

Bucky winced and dropped his hand. "No, you're right. That'd be worse," he agreed. "Worse than the jaw thing, maybe even the sad eyes."

"The sad eyes!" Tony groaned, covering his face with his hands. "God, I - see, I think those are worse than the disappointed face. Because if he's giving the disappointed face he's usually doing the sad eyes, too, and then -" He lowered his voice. "I just want to hug him."

"I guess I'm immune," Bucky chuckled. "But seriously, he's not going to begrudge you a lost trinket, considering what you've been through."

Tony frowned and looked down at Bucky's leg, and started picking at a stray thread on his trousers. "Yeah, but I would," he sighed, playing with the pendant idly. He huffed out a little laugh. "Do you know he spent two weeks scouring markets for an engagement present?"

Bucky hummed. "No, but that sounds like something he would do," he agreed, looking up at the night sky.

Tony chuckled. "Well, he ended up finding this stone, and had it shaped and put on the cord himself, and -" He smiled to himself. "He was so pleased with himself, when he gave it to me… He said," His face reddened. "He said it reminded him of me." He looked down at the stone, and wrapped his hand around it protectively. "Bright and brilliant, with the little imperfections making it even more stunning. I mean -" Tony cleared his throat and laughed nervously. "God, who even says something like that?"

"Stevie," Bucky said softly, a strange little lump in his throat. "And he's not wrong."

Tony ducked his head, his blush deepening. After a few minutes of awkward fidgeting, he swallowed and mumbled, "It's just… I don't think anyone had ever gone to so much trouble to find a gift for me before. I - " He shook his head, some of his blush receding. "Have you seen my engagement gift to him?"

Bucky's brow furrowed. Then he remembered the odd necklace with the little metal disk he'd seen Steve wearing. "The metal ring he wears around his neck all the time?" Bucky asked.

Tony chuckled and nodded. "'Ring' is a nice way to describe it," he snorted, expression fond. "It's literally junk - a spare part he picked up from my workshop. I mean," He shook his head. "He actually picked it out. He - the first day, after Dad told me about the engagement, Steve paid me a visit. He came down to my workshop to talk about it, and to make sure I wasn't agreeing just because my father was pressuring me."

Tony stared out into the night, a faraway look in his eye.

"While we were talking I was making something - a silly little wind-up toy for a friend's child - and he, he loved it. Though he's always fascinated when he's in the workshop, so I guess it shouldn't have surprised me. Anyway, he asked me how it worked, and, as I was explaining all the parts, he picked up one of the spare gears and asked if he could have it. And then, then!"

Tony shook his head, and grinned down at Bucky.

"He clears his throat and gets that really earnest look on his face - you know exactly the one I'm talking about - and asks if I'll marry him. In the middle of my damn workshop. After we've already spent the better part of an hour talking about it, and it's all but decided anyway."

Tony shook his head again, and let out an exasperated huff. "So, after I say I've already said yes, you dramatic idiot, get your knees off my dirty floor, he holds up the gear, and asks if he can keep it as 'a token of my favor'. I mean… it was the most ridiculous, silly thing I'd ever seen, and yet…"

"You still said yes," Bucky finished quietly, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

"I still said yes," Tony grumbled fondly. "So now the dramatic sap is running around the kingdom with a dirty old gear around his neck, while I have a beautiful stone that's supposed to somehow represent what a remarkable person I am." He sighed and ran his hand up and down Bucky's shin absently, which felt nice, and helped distract Bucky from the nagging ache. "And he won't let me replace it with anything else, either. I mean, I even offered to have a gold gear made specifically for him to wear, but he wouldn't have it."

Bucky grunted and shifted his weight. "It makes sense, though," he said slowly, wiggling some more and folding his arm back under his neck. The hard ground was making his neck and shoulders ache on top of everything else, but he didn't want to complain in case it made Tony move away . "Really, it's kinda cute. Like somethin' out of the stories his ma used to tell us when we were kids."

"It makes zero sense, but it _is_ cute, which is why it pisses me off," Tony snorted. He must have noticed Bucky's discomfort anyway, because he frowned down at him, then scooped up what was left of the tunic he'd been ripping for the bindings.

"Here," he said, balling it up and slipping it under Bucky's head. "Sorry, I should've thought of that sooner."

Bucky hummed noncommittally. "'S'okay," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "Unless you plan on sleeping sitting up, we can't stay in this position all night, anyway."

Tony startled, as though the thought hadn't occurred to him, then bit his lip. "Yeah, I guess, but…" He hesitated, and looked down at Bucky's leg. "Don't you need to keep this elevated? I don't mind sitting here a little while longer. I figured I'd just take first watch."

Bucky cracked one eye open. "You've been awake for hours, Tony. You need to get some sleep, too. Besides," He pointedly lifted his leg, ignoring the pain, and gave his thigh a light smack. "I told you, I heal fast, remember? I've recovered from worse injuries in far worse conditions; trust me, it'll be fine."

Tony still looked apprehensive, though, so Bucky sighed and sat up on his elbows. "If you want, you can lay on my right side, and I'll prop it up on your legs."

Tony stared at him blankly, eyes dropping from Bucky's face to his leg and then back again incomprehensibly.

Bucky huffed softly, then sat up and lifted his leg off of Tony so he could move. "It's too cold to sleep apart, Tony," he said, scooting over a little and looking around for his cloak, which Tony had left on his makeshift armor sled. "My cloak should cover us both, and it'll be warmer - and safer - if we stick together."

Tony nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly, but Bucky couldn't tell if it was the sleeping arrangement or the fact that he hadn't caught on right away that was embarrassing him. He scurried away towards the armor and came back a second later with Bucky's cloak bundled up in his arms, but hesitated before he sat back down.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay up and keep watch?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder and out into the dark.

Bucky took in the dark circles under Tony's eyes, the cuts and bruises on his face, his swollen lip, and the general look of exhaustion the man wore.

"We'll be fine," he said firmly, and patted the dirt to his right.

Tony sighed, but after a few more seconds of hesitation laid down beside him. There was still a good six inches of space between them, though, and Tony and laid his head right down on the ground. When a minute passed and Tony had made no inclination that he was going to move, Bucky sighed and scooted closer.

"Sleeping close for warmth only works if we actually, you know, sleep close," Bucky pointed out mildly, lifting his injured leg and propping it up on both of Tony's.

After a beat of silence, Tony sat up to spread the cloak over them, then, to Bucky's surprise, turned towards Bucky and settled his head on Bucky's shoulder.

When Bucky tilted his head up to catch Tony's eye, Tony snuggled even closer, eyebrows raised daringly.

"What? You have a pillow, and you're using me as a footrest, so the least you can do substitute for my pillow," he said, though Bucky noted his blush was back in full force.

Bucky grinned. "Fair enough," he said, laying his head back down and wrapping his arm around Tony so he wouldn't roll off. Truth be told, he liked the warm, comforting presence that was Tony's weight at his side, and the position would probably be doubly warm for them anyway.

Bucky shifted once more and made sure the cloak was adequately covering them both, then yawned. "Goodnight, Tony," he mumbled tiredly, exhaustion already pulling him into unconsciousness.

A soft snore was his only answer.

* * *

The next morning, Bucky woke to soft brown hair tickling his nose, and from the first good dream he'd had in nearly five years.

* * *

 **AN** : For a link to artwork by Massivespacewren that goes with this chapter, check out my profile. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Despite the cold nights, hot days, and long journey, the next few days passed quickly, and in relative peace.

They made camp and rested as often as they could on the first few days while Bucky's leg was healing. Tony was not at all happy about it - ever the aristocrat, he was not as comfortable camping outdoors as Bucky was - but after Bucky had convinced him that no, he could not actually drag Bucky and his sled all the way home by himself, he seemed mostly content to slow his pace and revel in their newfound freedom.

Water turned out to be a less of a problem than Bucky had predicted. Fresh water dripped regularly from cliff walls, and was easy enough to gather, even if it did taste a bit gritty. At least it was cleaner than what the bandits had given them.

Food, on the other hand, was a bigger challenge.

"How about these?" Tony asked, presenting his findings to Bucky for inspection.

They'd had to make a rule that Bucky had to check anything Tony foraged after an incident involving toxic berries on the second day. Luckily for Tony, he'd only eaten a few and they had only numbed his mouth a little, but neither he nor Bucky wanted to take anymore chances.

"Well, those mushrooms will kill us, but those will only make us wish we were dead," Bucky said politely, pointing at the toadstools Tony had proudly dumped before him with his makeshift crutch and trying not to smile. "The moss on your knees is edible, though. Where'd you find it?"

Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously, trying to decide if Bucky was joking or not. When Bucky just raised his eyebrows, Tony goggled at him in horror.

"I am not eating moss," he said, crossing his arms and blanching. "I am willing to sleep in dirt, drink gritty sand water, and risk death climbing ridges for mushrooms that may or may not kill us, but I put my foot down at eating moss."

Bucky grinned. "Think of it as an exotic salad," he suggested, poking at the mossy patch on Tony's knee with his crutch. "Maybe we can even find some ants or something to eat with it. Like those little crunchy crouton things you fancy people eat."

Tony glowered at him. "I'd rather eat that dead, rotting thing I ran across getting these deathstools," he declared, kicking sullenly at said deathstools. Then he froze and looked up at Bucky in alarm. "Wait - I'm not going to get sick from touching them, am I?"

"You shouldn't," Bucky said, frowning at the rest of what Tony had said while Tony swore and started dumping part of his canteen over his hands. "What dead thing?"

Tony shrugged distractedly. "Oh, uh, some dead animal carcass. Couldn't tell what it was - most of it was eaten, and the rest was all rotted and bloated, so it could have been anything from a deer or a mountain goat to a sheep or a cow." He wrinkled his nose and recapped the canteen. "It's actually the second one I ran into. I found another one the day before yesterday, too, and I -" He paused when he got a look at Bucky's face, and blanched again. "Please don't actually suggest we eat it. I was only joking," he said, misreading Bucky's expression.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he scoffed. "I was just wondering where the hell they were coming from, and if it would be possible for us to catch one."

The valley had proven mostly - and oddly - devoid of wildlife; thus far, Bucky hadn't seen anything but bugs, a few lizards, and a stray bird here and there.

Tony eyed Bucky suspiciously for a few more seconds, then relaxed. "The thought occurred to me, too," he said glumly, staring down at their inedible mushrooms with remorse. "God, I would kill for some meat right about now…"

Bucky chuckled and elbowed him in the side. "There's always the things or thing that's been leaving the carcasses…" he teased, even though the realization that there was a predator or predators like that in the valley made him uneasy.

Tony scowled at him. "Don't even joke about it," he grumbled. "You're the crippled, slower target. Whatever it is is more likely to catch and eat you first."

"Only if it catches us before we starve to death," Bucky replied cheerfully. He then pulled some of the wildberries he'd found near their campsite while Tony had been off foraging out of his pocket, and offered Tony one.

"I hate you," Tony muttered, before accepting one of the berries.

Bucky grinned.

* * *

"I hate you," Tony mumbled again later that night, half-asleep with his face buried in Bucky's shoulder, after a very filling meal of berries, (non-poisonous) mushrooms, and, at Bucky's challenge, moss.

Bucky laughed and ruffled his hair, eyes on the night sky.

The whole situation was not anything Bucky could have predicted.

It was not ideal. It was not easy.

Yet it was the most relaxed Bucky had felt since he'd been freed from HYDRA's grasp.

* * *

True to his estimation, Bucky's leg was mostly healed within a week, though he still walked with a limp and had converted his make-do crutch into a make-do cane instead.

"I feel like an old man," Bucky complained, limping along beside Tony and trying not to stumble over the much rockier terrain. Tony had already tripped twice, and the last thing Bucky wanted was a sprained or twisted ankle on top of everything else.

Tony peered over his shoulder at Bucky and smirked. "Well, at least you've retained your good looks in you old age," he said cheekily, before promptly tripping again.

Bucky refrained from laughing until he was sure Tony was okay. "Young folks these days. Never watching where they're goin'," he lamented once Tony turned to glare at him daringly.

Tony responded by throwing a pebble at him.

Still sniggering, Bucky was deciding on whether to retaliate or not when they heard the first rumble.

They both glanced upwards.

"I really hope that's thunder and not a volcano," Tony muttered, slowly turning in a circle with his eyes still heavenward.

"I think I remember someone saying all the volcanoes on this side of the continent are dormant," Bucky said, following Tony's example and turning in a circle. "Oh, there," he added, pointing towards the western horizon.

Though their view was partially blocked by the mountains and the canyon wall to the west, there was no mistaking the gray clouds just at the edge of the horizon.

"That… is the last thing we need," Tony sighed, squinting and dropping the hand he'd been using to shield his eyes from the sun.

"A little rain won't kill us," Bucky said, even though he wasn't fond of the idea of having to walk in it.

Tony made a face. "That looks like more than a little rain," he pointed out, just as the sound of another rumble made it to their ears. "And I don't know about you, but I don't like the thought of being in the middle of the canyon when it starts coming down." He nodded towards the canyon walls. "Those rocks don't look at all stable, and I don't want to get caught in a mudslide."

Bucky frowned and followed Tony's gaze warily. He hadn't thought of that. A landslide would be devastating, especially with them trapped in the valley with nowhere to go. "I guess… we could always wait it out in one of the caves," he suggested reluctantly.

Besides becoming less steep the farther north they'd gone, the cliffs had also given way to more caves. By unspoken agreement, Bucky and Tony hadn't tried to explore and or take shelter in any of them, even the few that wouldn't have had to climb to get to.

They'd had their fill of dark, dank caverns, and, given the choice, preferred the open air and a view of the sky when they fell asleep.

"Better than being crushed under a pile of rocks, I guess," Tony said, though he didn't look any happier about the idea than Bucky felt.

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe it'll miss us," he offered, before they started walking again.

Less than twenty minutes later, however, and it had become apparent that they were directly in the storm's path.

"Shit," Tony muttered, when the first few drops started coming down.

Bucky repeated the sentiment when the drops became a torrent, then flinched when lightning struck uncomfortable close.

"Over here!" Bucky yelled, pointing back towards one of the caves they'd just passed. It had been slightly up an incline, but it hadn't looked hard to climb, and if there was a landslide Bucky didn't want to be trapped at the very bottom of the canyon.

Tony shouted an affirmation that was lost to the wind and rain and scrambled closer to him, taking hold of Bucky's hand as soon as he was able.

They both sprinted (well, Tony sprinted - Bucky mostly tripped and slid, and let Tony pull him along) until they were at the incline, then scrambled up, another flash of lightning spurring Bucky to go faster.

After several minutes of pushing, slipping, pulling, and sliding, they finally made it to the mouth of cave, soaked to the bone and shivering.

"W-well, at l-least we h-have s-something to start a f-fire with," Tony stuttered out with chattering teeth, pointing to the sad little brush plant sitting just inside the mouth of the cave.

* * *

Tony wandered off while Bucky busied himself trying to start a fire, sacrificing his cane and the last bit of wood from Tony's armor sled to add to the brush.

Bucky didn't figure he'd get far - it was too dark in the cave to do so without light - so he was surprised by how far away Tony's voice sounded when Bucky heard him shriek.

"Tony?!" Bucky yelled in a panic, and tried to push himself to his feet.

Tony didn't reply, but Bucky could hear the sound of his footsteps echoing along the cave walls as he ran back towards Bucky.

Bucky picked up his slightly-charred cane and reached for one of his knives in case he had to fight someone or something off, but when Tony finally ran into view, he was wearing an expression of elation rather than fear.

"Bucky! You're never going to believe what I - what are you doing?" Tony asked, stopping himself short and cocking his head in bewilderment. "Do you know your walking stick is on fire?"

Bucky blinked, then looked down at the smouldering end of his cane and scowled. "I was getting ready for a fight," he said irritably. "What's all the shouting about? I thought we were under attack!"

Tony's brow wrinkled. "What? Why? Oh, never mind, and keep your stick, we can use it as a torch," he said, positively vibrating with energy. "Come on!" He eagerly motioned for Bucky to follow him, then skipped back into the bowels of the cave.

Bucky frowned after him, glanced down at his not-quite-fire, then sighed and followed. "Hey, don't go too far, I can't see you!"

Tony turned around and waited for him, fidgeting impatiently, then seemed to remember that Bucky was using his now-flaming cane as a torch and trudged back.

"Come on, it's worth the walk, I promise," he said, hooking his arm through Bucky's and hurrying him along.

They had walked almost forty paces, by Bucky's count, when the cave opened up and became more cavernous, as well as, oddly, warmer.

Tony stopped them, still squirming like an excited puppy, and pointed towards a dark pool to the left, which appeared to be the source of the heat.

"It's a hot spring!" Tony crowed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Bucky raised his eyebrows and ventured a little closer. "Uh, neat," he said, peering into the pool cautiously.

"'Neat'?" Tony scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. "It's a hot spring! _Hot water_ , Bucky! Do you know who long it's been since I've had a bath?" He bent down and reached out as though he was going to put his hand in the water, making Bucky tense and grab his wrist.

"Is it safe?" Bucky asked dubiously, frowning down at the water suspiciously.

Tony rolled his eyes, flicked his other hand into the water, and splashed Bucky with it.

Bucky scowled at him, and it was on the tip of his tongue to reprimand him, but then the warm water seeped through the cold, wet cloth of his shirt. "Oh, fuck that's warm," Bucky sighed, leaning over further in an attempt to get closer to the warmth.

Tony grinned. "See?" he said, taking Bucky's hand and slipping it into the water with his.

Bucky tried and nearly failed to contain a whimper, not realizing how cold he was until now.

Tony bumped his shoulder, still grinning widely.

"We'll build a fire back here," Bucky decided, though prying himself away from there long enough to go get the wood was going to be a challenge.

* * *

Tony ended up dashing off and bringing the rest of the supplies back, the promise of a hot bath apparently giving him the motivation he needed to do the job quickly.

Bucky certainly didn't complain, and set about starting the fire again as soon as he was able, sticking the end of his walking stick/torch between two rocks to free his hands and give them some light in the meantime.

"I haven't bathed in weeks - that cold, agonizing shower just now notwithstanding," Tony said as he started peeling his wet clothes off.

Bucky quickly turned away, his face warming, and not from the steam or the fire.

"I - well, we, I'm sorry, but you don't exactly smell like daisies yourself - really needed this," Tony continued, oblivious to Bucky's sudden embarrassment. "Hey, should we lay these out around the fire so they'll dry?" he added, looking over his shoulder at Bucky and holding his shirt out innocently.

Bucky swallowed and ducked his head. "Uh, yeah, good idea. Maybe they'll be dry by the time we're done," he mumbled, unable to look Tony in the eye.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. His sense of modesty had all but died during the war, and he'd seen plenty of men in various stages of dress for the same reason. Hell, it wouldn't even be the first time he and Tony had gotten an eyeful of each other - they had pretty much lost all sense of decorum with each other after the second day in their cell, and out of necessity when Bucky's leg had first been broken.

Somehow, though, undressing like this, for the sole purpose of bathing together, felt… different. More intimate, almost, which made Bucky feel funny just thinking about it. But then, Tony seemed fine with it, and if Bucky said or did something about it, he'd be the one making it weird.

Tony shuffled over and started setting his clothes out, then paused and cocked his head at Bucky. "You okay? You don't need help with your clothes, do you?"

Impossibly, Bucky felt his face go redder. "No, fine. Just deciding how to set things so they'll dry faster," he said hastily, reaching down to take off his shirt.

Ah, fuck it. The water wasn't all that clear, so they probably wouldn't see that much of each other anyway, once they were both in. Until then, Bucky would just politely keep his eyes to himself, and try not to flash Tony in the meantime.

Bucky heard a splash behind him, followed by the most obscene groan that had ever reached his ears.

Oh, shit. Now he was _really_ going to have to get in quickly.

"I'm staying in here forever!" Tony announced amidst more splashing. "You're going to have to drag me out, I'm not leaving!"

Bucky gritted his teeth, and chanced a glance over his shoulder. Tony's back was too him, sunk to his neck in the water, so Bucky made a run for it and slipped in quickly. The motion made the water slosh and caught Tony's attention, but by the time he turned Bucky was already waist-deep in the water - and in heaven.

"Oh God," he groaned, sinking down further, until his shoulders were covered like Tony's. The warmth was absolutely glorious, just a few degrees shy of being too hot but no less toe-curling for it. Bucky could feel muscles he hadn't even known were tense loosen up and relax.

Tony was watching him out of the corner of his eyes, the heat of the water making his skin pink. "See?" he said, after clearing his throat. "S'nice, right?"

Bucky closed his eyes and nodded, noticing that his leg felt pain-free for the first time since it had been broken. "Never leaving," he agreed, cupping some of the water and scrubbing his face with it.

Hmmm, maybe he could use one of his knives and shave…

More water splashed him in the face, making him splutter and breaking him out of his spell. "Hey!"

Tony grinned, face still flushed beautifully, and splashed him again.

"Don't fall asleep," he ordered, eyes dancing mischievously. "I don't want to go home and have to tell everyone the great Bucky Barnes drowned in three feet of water."

Bucky growled and splashed him back. "Shut up. I'll have died happy," he said, distracting Tony while his hand reached under the water. He encountered what felt like a foot and seized it, his fingers dancing along the sole.

Tony shrieked and kicked him. "No tickling!" he yelled, though he was already moving closer so he could retaliate.

Bucky laughed and slapped his hand down on the water to splash him, then scooted away, feeling like a little kid.

They played like that for almost half an hour, until Bucky had chased Tony to a corner of the pool and tickled his sides until he'd called uncle.

"You're an evil, corrupt man!" Tony wheezed, color high in his cheeks.

Bucky grinned, and splashed him once more for good measure. "And you're adorable," he said without thinking, then snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide.

Tony turned towards him, but he looked amused and curious rather than angry or embarrassed. "I feel like I should be more offended by that than I am," he said, running a hand through his damp locks. "I haven't been called adorable since I was twelve."

Bucky wasn't sure what to say to that, and at the risk of embarrassing himself further, kept his mouth shut.

Because Tony _was_ adorable. He had a sweet smile, and a playfulness about him that bordered on childish but fell somewhere around charming instead. His eyes were bright and kind, and framed with long, dark lashes that helped emphasize the brown of his eyes.

Bucky blinked, then frowned internally.

When the hell had he starting noticing Tony's _eyelashes_?

"Dragon baths," Tony said suddenly, ducking down until the water just brushed his lips.

Bucky shook himself out of his stupor and swallowed around his suddenly dry throat. "Huh?"

"Dragon baths," Tony repeated, grinning. "That's what Ana - the woman who helped raise me - always called hot springs. She'd mention them in her stories all the time. 'A sure-fire way to meet a dragon is to find one of his special baths'," he said, imitating a voice and accent unknown to Bucky. Then he smiled softly, eyes far away but fond. "I can't tell you how many stories began with some beautiful maiden or feisty adventurer deciding to take a bath in a hot spring, only to have some dragon take offense or whisk them away."

Bucky chuckled, welcoming the change in subject. "Sounds reasonable," he said, pulling a strand of wet hair away from his face and tucking it behind his ear. "I wouldn't care much for finding some naked stranger in my bathtub, either."

Tony laughed. "See, that's what I always said," he huffed, folding his arms over the edge of the spring and then resting his head on them. "Still, those were some of my favorite stories. I think Ana knew that, which was why she kept telling them, I guess."

Bucky hummed and scooted closer to the edge as well. "Something thrilling about slaying a dragon, I s'pose," he agreed, moving beside Tony and mimicking his position, because it looked comfortable.

Tony shook his head. "No, that's why I liked Ana's stories," he said. "Nobody ever slayed the dragons. Sometimes they were even the heroes."

Bucky tilted his head. "How does that work?"

Tony's face lit up. "Well, it's like - okay, in my favorite story, there's this princess," he began, eyes bright.

"Any good story needs a princess," Bucky hummed with a nod.

Tony huffed, but didn't seem to mind the interruption.

"Right. Well, anyway, this princess - she has everything. She's beautiful, is rich, lives in a nice castle, is loved by her people, the whole shebang. She has and is given whatever she wants whenever she wants it, but only under the condition that she throws many balls so that she may find a suitable prince the king and queen approve of to marry her."

Bucky frowned, noticing the way Tony's eyes lost some of their brightness at that, but he didn't say anything.

Tony continued.

"Anyway, she has whatever she wants. But despite that, she isn't very happy, because she's always very, very bored. Now because she's so important, and her parents want to protect her, she's not allowed to leave the kingdom, or travel very far from the castle. But one day, when the boredom finally gets to be too much, she sneaks out of the castle to one of the nearby hot springs she's heard of, and decides to bathe there."

"Scandalous," Bucky said, smirking, which earned him a splash.

"This is where the dragon comes in. You see, as you've probably guessed, the hot spring she chooses happens to be one of his dragon baths. And it just so happens that he decides to visit it while she's there bathing. He is, of course, rather outraged to find a beautiful naked maiden in his bath -"

"I think he needs to reprioritize his life," Bucky murmured, and while Tony didn't pause in his story, he did grin widely.

"- so he gets all fired up -"

"I'm assuming you don't mean passionately…"

"- and whisks her off, flying over the lands and far away from her home."

Bucky propped his chin up. "Did he at least let her put her clothes back on first?" he asked.

Tony frowned. "You know, Ana never said, and it never actually occurred to me to ask," he confessed, looking thoroughly chagrined with this oversight.

"I imagine flying naked could get quite cold," Bucky remarked seriously.

Tony opened his mouth to reply, then caught sight of Bucky's expression and scowled.

"You're making fun of me," he accused, crossing his arms.

"Not really," Bucky said, unable to keep a straight face. It was the story he was teasing, and he almost said so. But then Tony splashed him angrily and looked down, face red, which made Bucky realize just how much the story must have meant to him.

"No, come on, finish the story," Bucky pleaded, catching Tony's wrist before he could splash him again. "I won't tease anymore, I promise."

Tony side-eyed him suspiciously. "Promise?" he asked, and gradually lowered his hand.

Bucky nodded. "Cross my heart," he said, and did so. "Come on, he carried her off, she's far from home, what happens next?"

Tony frowned, still suspicious, but after a few seconds he cleared his throat. "Well, eventually the dragon stops and sets her down so he can rest and get a bite to eat. And he expects her to be cowering and terrified, because what sane person wouldn't be after something like that? But instead, he sets her down, and she starts laughing."

"Laughing?" Bucky asked incredulously.

Tony nodded, mouth turning up. "Laughing," he confirmed. "And if this confuses you and me, you can imagine how the dragon felt. But anyway, she laughs, and she looks up at the dragon and says, 'Oh, thank you, Sir Dragon! I do think that is the most incredible journey I've ever taken!'

"And the dragon is still confused, but he's also rather charmed by the compliment, because no one has ever said something so nice about his flying before. 'Well now, young maiden,' he says. 'That journey wasn't anything special. We've barely flown more than a league, and not even a very fast one at that! If you want a real incredible journey, I can take you on quite an adventure, I can.'

"The dragon doesn't expect much from this - he's just boasting, really - but once again the princess surprises him. 'Oh, would you?' she says. And then, just like that, the dragon picks her up and takes her flying again, this time taking care to be as showy as possible."

Bucky chuckled. "He had quite the ego, didn't he?"

Tony laughed. "All dragons do," he said, the sparkle returning to his eyes. "Or so Ana always said. So anyway, the dragon flew her around the kingdom, and, when that started to lose its excitement, the world.

"They flew to faraway lands. Exotic places with foods the princess had never eaten, and sights she'd never seen. They flew to the tallest mountains in the world, and to islands no man had ever explored. They went on so many adventures together, that soon, without ever really realizing it, they had become the best of friends, and neither the dragon nor the princess could remember a time when they've had so much fun."

Tony stopped and bit his lip. "Sometimes, if I asked, one of Ana's other stories would be about their adventures," he said shyly, as though admitting some big secret.

"I'd think I'd like to hear those, someday," Bucky said softly. And though he couldn't read the look Tony gave him, he felt Tony's hand brush against his forearm in gratitude.

"Then, one day, after a particularly thrilling adventure, the dragon is hit with a fit of conscious. 'Princess, I am terribly sorry,' he says, surprising the princess.

"'Well, whatever for?' she asks. 'We've been having such fun, haven't we?'

"'Perhaps,' the dragon says in remorse. 'But I stole you away from your home and family. Took you away from your perfect life, your wonderful castle, and all of your wonderful things. You must hate me!'"

Bucky had to bite back a smile as Tony's hands moved theatrically, his expressions and voice changing when the characters spoke. It wasn't hard to picture him as a child, sitting rapt at his storyteller's feet and drinking in every word like a sponge.

"The princess just laughs. 'Hate you?' she says. 'How can I hate you? I've never loved anything as much as I love this new life with you. You didn't steal me away, my friend…'

"'You saved me'," Tony finished, opening his hands and then letting them fall into the water. He cleared his throat and looked up, those eyes still impossibly bright, and a small, sheepish smile playing at his mouth. "That… that was my favorite story, growing up. I don't know why, I knew it by heart but I made Ana tell it to me over and over again, and I just…" He shrugged, embarrassed, and looked down at the water.

"I like it," Bucky said quietly, a strange feeling welling up in his chest.

And it wasn't hard at all to see why Tony did, either.

A person of high breeding trapped in a boring life of duty, and destined to marry someone their parents picked for them?

Once again he pictured little Tony, this time dreaming of a dragon that could take him away on an adventure, and found this one even easier to imagine than the first.

Tony flushed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Bucky said lightly, and then, because he wanted Tony's smile back, he raised his right hand and wiggled his fingers. "We're getting wrinkly."

Tony snickered, just like Bucky knew he would. "Speak for yourself, old man," he scoffed, and poked at Bucky's chest.

Bucky caught Tony's hand and held it to his chest with one hand and reached out to tickle Tony's side with the other.

Tony yelped and shoved at Bucky's shoulder with his free hand. "Cheater!" he shrieked, laughing and trying to squirm out of Bucky's grasp. "No more tickling - I already told you you won!"

Bucky laughed and tugged Tony closer by his captive hand. "Oh really?" he snickered, feeling oddly breathless. "What did I win?"

Tony stopped moving and grinned up at him. "I dunno," he huffed, relaxing now that Bucky had stopped tickling him. "What do you want?"

And, all of a sudden, Bucky became hyper aware of just how close they were sitting.

Though he'd stopped tickling him, Bucky's right hand was still splayed over Tony's ribs. Without thinking, Bucky stroked his thumb across Tony's skin, and felt his heart leap to his throat when Tony shivered and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Bucky noticed his pupils were dilated.

Swallowing hard, Bucky's eyes dropped to Tony's mouth, which was also a lot closer than Bucky remembered. So close, in fact, that all Bucky would have to do is lean forward, just a few inches, and…

Tony moved forward at the same time Bucky did, mouth parted, and just as their lips were about to touch, Bucky felt something small and hard thunk against his chest.

Thoughts foggy and heart still thrumming, Bucky looked down -

And saw Tony's engagement necklace.

It was like being dunked in ice water.

Guilt shot through Bucky like lightning, making his pulse pound in his ears and the warm feeling in his stomach turn sour. He let go of Tony as though he had been burned, though he stopped short of throwing himself backwards and away from him at the look of wide-eyed alarm Tony was giving him.

"Bucky?" Tony asked, voice small.

Bucky swallowed, hard, around an apology that wouldn't come. "I think our clothes might be dry," he said hoarsely, unable to look Tony in the eye.

Tony opened his mouth, then shut it, expression closing off. "Okay," he said, throat clicking. "I - are you -"

"We should probably get out soon before we overheat, anyway," Bucky continued, turning his back to Tony and moving to the opposite end of the pool.

He didn't hear Tony's response, but he did hear a soft splash of displaced water as Tony got out.

* * *

Bucky stared at the cavern's ceiling, chest tight and stomach in knots.

Tony was breathing deeply in sleep beside him, back turned to Bucky and head resting on Bucky's arm.

They hadn't said much to each other after getting out of the hot spring. Not that there was really much to discuss, at least on Bucky's part.

He had feelings for Tony.

Mostly, Bucky was just upset that he hadn't realized it until that moment in the spring. Because, reflecting on the events and his feelings over the last few weeks, there was no way this was a new or sudden development.

It had happened so fast - or so gradually - that he hadn't even realized it until the moment he'd looked down into those beautiful brown eyes, and found himself physically aching with the desire to kiss their owner. Hadn't realized the feelings he'd been dismissing for weeks as simply protective were much, much more.

Bucky closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

He was - and had been - falling in love with Tony.

Tony, who was going to marry Steve.

Steve, who was Bucky's best and oldest friend, and who clearly cared about Tony as well.

Bucky clenched his fists. What the hell was he _doing_? Best friends did not frolic naked in a bath with - and then try to kiss - their best friends' fiancés. Then again, best friends didn't go falling for their best friends' fiancés, either, so perhaps he should try to focus on the bigger issue, here.

He was just going to have to try get over Tony. Ignore his feelings, concentrate on getting them both back home, and keep Tony safe, just like he'd promised Steve. Even if a niggling little part of him couldn't help but notice that Tony had looked like he'd been leaning into the kiss, too.

 _Wishful thinking,_ Bucky thought to himself gloomily, shifting slightly so he could look down at Tony. He remembered the way Tony had looked when he'd told Bucky about the jasper pendant, and what Steve had said about it. Despite what Tony had said about not being in love with Steve, it was obvious - to Bucky at least - that Tony cared deeply about him, and was well on his way to falling for him as well. How could he not? Steve was loyal and kindhearted, and clearly the kind of person someone would want in life partner.

He was good for Tony, where Bucky was not.

No, Tony couldn't possibly love Bucky, and that was okay - even if the thought sent a little pang through Bucky's heart.

Closing his eyes, Bucky shifted again, and ended up with his nose buried in Tony's hair.

 _Just this once_ , he thought to himself, as Tony's scent and soft breathing began lulling him to sleep. It wasn't as if Tony was complaining - Bucky usually woke up with him plastered to his side - and besides, it was warmer this way, anyway.

* * *

Feigning sleep, Tony kept his breathing deep and even, and prayed Bucky couldn't hear the way his heart was hammering in his chest.

He's almost kissed Bucky.

The pendant around his neck felt twice as heavy as usual, nestled against his thundering chest as though mocking him.

He'd never even kissed Steve, his fucking betrothed, but he'd almost kissed Bucky, a man who most certainly was not his betrothed, and said betrothed's best friend besides.

Behind him, Bucky sighed, and the bicep Tony was using as a pillow flexed.

Tony's heart fluttered.

Oh, God.

This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be falling in lo-

 _No, don't go there, Tony,_ he chided himself firmly, even if the fluttering in his chest got worse at the thought.

Swallowing hard, Tony thought of Steve, and wrapped his hand around his pendant.

 _Don't want for things you can't have,_ he thought, before squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think of other things.

That night he dreamed of dragons and princesses, metal fingers in his hair, and warm lips on his.

He woke up still clutching his pendant, Bucky's scent in his nose and Bucky's arm wrapped firmly around his middle.


	8. Chapter 8

"You know, I think I actually liked you better when you were couldn't walk," Tony wheezed later the next day, clutching at his side.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder at him. "I could always carry you up the hill," he offered, straight-faced.

Tony scowled and took another step towards him, only for one foot to slip out from under him on the damp earth. Luckily he caught his balance before he could actually fall, arms flapping in a way that reminded Bucky of angry chickens.

"Shut up," Tony said, before Bucky could say anything.

Bucky grinned and raised his hands, but politely waited for Tony to catch up with him before he started walking again.

Despite their pace and injuries, they had made excellent time on their journey, and when Bucky had poked his head out of the cave that morning to check the weather, he had discovered two things: One, that the sun was out and the rain had long since stopped, and two - he could smell the sea.

They were almost to the coast. It had almost been enough to dispel the black mood that had overcome Bucky from the night before, and now that his leg was barely twinging - the hot bath having done wonders for the last of his pain - he'd made the executive decision that it was time to start climbing out of the valley.

Tony had seemed pretty enthused about the decision this morning - though that had been before any of the actual climbing had started.

"Are you sure you're not part mountain goat?" he'd demanded early on, gasping and sputtering up a particularly steep incline Bucky had cheerfully hopped up with hardly any effort.

Bucky had responded by offering him a piggyback ride, and had continued to do so just about every hour since, to increasingly colorful replies.

Though, truth be told, Bucky was just relieved he was getting replies at all after last night's debatical and ensuing awkward silence. Thankfully Tony seemed to have chosen to forget or ignore it, and had woken up as chatty and grumpy as ever, which had eased the knot in Bucky's stomach.

Bucky could stand his feeling for Tony being unreciprocated, but he didn't want to lose Tony as a friend.

"Seriously, though… is your leg okay?" Tony asked after a little more climbing, glancing sideways at Bucky and breaking him out of his reverie. "You're slowing down."

Bucky startled and looked down at his leg. It had started twinging again about an hour ago, but not enough to slow him down. "Yeah, it's fine," Bucky replied. "I don't want to push it, though." Or Tony, but Bucky wasn't going to say that out loud.

Tony frowned, looking as though he were trying to decide if Bucky was lying or not. "Okay," he said finally, though he still looked worried. "Just… say something if you want to stop, okay? We've come this far, a little longer isn't going to hurt anything."

Bucky grunted an affirmation, then smirked. "Are you sure you're not the one who wants to stop?" he teased.

Tony glared. "If you trip and fall, I'm not dragging you again," he sniffed, picking up his pace in an attempt to overtake Bucky.

Grinning to himself, Bucky let Tony stay ahead of him for a few paces, then picked up speed until they were walking side-by-side again.

"Sure you don't want to take a break?" he asked Tony innocently. "I think I saw some tasty moss on those rocks a little while back, and I could use a snack."

Tony opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything, his stomach rumbled.

Bucky raised his eyebrows. "I was actually joking, but if you're that hungry…"

Tony scowled. "I have made my position on moss very clear," he grumbled, putting a hand on his stomach when it growled again.

"Your stomach doesn't agree with you," Bucky said wryly.

Tony sniffed and rubbed his stomach, then sighed wistfully. "Steak," he said mournfully, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "A nice, juicy steak, with bread and butter and maybe some potatoes…"

Bucky's mouth watered at the thought, his own stomach giving a few sympathy pangs. "Hey, now look what you did," he grumbled, and whacked Tony lightly on the arm. "Now I'm hungry, too."

Tony opened his eyes and grinned. "Oh, come on. If you could have any meal, here in front of you right now, what would it be?" he asked, lifting his arms and interlacing his fingers behind his head.

Bucky huffed, then bit his lip. "Stew," he admitted, then sighed longingly. "A giant bowl of stew, with a big slice of blueberry pie for dessert."

Tony actually whined. "Oh, God, dessert," he groaned, dropping his hands and tilting his head back again. "I think I'd have... hey, have you ever had ice cream before?" he asked, cocking his head and glancing sideways at Bucky.

Bucky shrugged. "No, but I've heard of it," he said, curiosity piqued. "It's a rich people thing, isn't it?"

Tony blinked in surprise, then chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it would be," he mused. "It's probably expensive for most folks to try and keep the ice if it isn't winter." He frowned to himself, as though surprised the thought hadn't occurred to him before, then shook his head and smiled sheepishly at Bucky. "Anyway, I had some at the Mar-Vell estate once. It's… cold and sweet and creamy, and cools you right off. One of the most amazing things you'll ever eat."

Tony sighed happily in memory, while Bucky wrinkled his nose.

"Like… sweet porridge that's been sitting out?" Bucky asked dubiously. That didn't sound amazing to him, but…

Tony made a face. "God, no. Nothing like that. It's…" He frowned thoughtfully, then brightened. "Have you ever had snow-cream in the winter?"

Bucky perked up. "Oh! Yeah, Stevie's ma used to make it every year. She'd make us - well, usually me, since winters were always rough on Steve's health - go out and gather buckets of snow whenever there was enough on the ground, and make a big batch of it." He smiled at the memory, then huffed and added, "Stevie used to make himself sick on the stuff."

Tony grinned. "Just Steve?" he teased, then shook his head. "Ice cream is like that, only ten times better. Like - well, since I had it when it was warm, there was still lots of fruit in season. So there was some with strawberries in it, and blueberries, and other stuff Carol had imported in."

Bucky tried to picture snow-cream with strawberries in it, and decided that yes, that did sound amazing.

"I think I'd like ice cream," Bucky agreed, digging into his pocket for some of their saved wildberries now that his stomach wouldn't stop growling.

"Then it's settled," Tony declared. "First thing we're doing when we get back - we're eating ice cream."

"And stew," Bucky added, offering Tony the berries.

Tony accepted a few, and nodded gravely. "And stew. And steak. And bread. And…"

* * *

They were still discussing the metaphorical feast they were going to have once they were home when Bucky started to get a twitchy, tingling sensation on the back of his neck.

Shoulders tensing, Bucky hummed in acknowledgement at something Tony said, and carefully scanned their surroundings, the twitchy sensation increasing all the while.

They were being watched. By whom, Bucky didn't know, but he could feel their eyes on him.

In the back of his mind, the Soldier shifting restlessly, and Bucky became hyper-aware of his surroundings.

"Stop here," Bucky said lowly, cutting off Tony's soliloquy on Ana's rack of lamb.

Tony looked startled, likely by Bucky's tone, but did as he was told.

"What's wrong?" he asked, following Bucky's lead and lowering his voice.

Bucky shook his head, and continued to scan their surroundings, focusing specifically on the hilltops. "Someone's watching us," he said, taking Tony's elbow and carefully pulling him towards the outcrop of rocks to their right.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath, but Bucky shook his head and put a finger to his lips. "Careful, we don't want them to know we're on to them," he said softly, pushing Tony into the outcrop's shade. There was a little niche between two boulders that looked like a good place to take cover, and Bucky didn't think anyone would be able to see them there from the top of the ridge, so he steered Tony into it.

"Can you see them?" Tony whispered, head tilted and eyes calculating.

"No," Bucky replied, reaching into his boot and freeing one of his knives. "They might not even be an unfriendly, but…"

He handed the knife to Tony, who blinked down at it in surprise and then frowned. "What's this for?"

"Stabbing," Bucky replied tersely, taking Tony's hand in order to adjust his grip on the hilt. "Hold it this way. I'm going to go scout ahead, and see if I can spot them. You stay and wait for me here, and -"

Tony startled. "What? No! We shouldn't split up," he protested, and nearly dropped the knife.

Bucky caught it - as well as Tony's hand - and firmly adjusted Tony's grip again.

"I have a better chance of sneaking up on them on my own," Bucky said, wrapping both of his hands around Tony's and squeezing. "I'm part mountain goat, remember?"

That didn't garner the reaction Bucky had expected, and instead of smiling, Tony looked even more mutinous.

"Then I should go ahead, so you can sneak up on them while they're distracted with me," he said, squaring his jaw.

"I'm not leaving you exposed out in the open," Bucky said sharply. Tony glared and opened his mouth to protest again, but Bucky didn't back down. "No, this isn't the cave, where we knew what we were dealing with. It might not even be something dangerous, but I'm not risking your life on it. You _stay here_ , until I can asses the danger, and wait for me to come back. Understood?"

The Soldier was still simmering just under the surface, so Bucky let some of him slip into his voice. It must have worked, because Tony relented - but only a little.

"Ten minutes," Tony growled, twisting the hand that wasn't holding the knife around so he could grip Bucky's wrist. "If you're not back by then, I'm coming after you."

Bucky let out a frustrated hiss. The longer they stayed here and argued, the more likely it was that whoever was watching would get suspicious and come down to investigate, compromising the little hiding place entirely.

"Fine," Bucky snapped. "But not a second before, got it?"

Tony nodded, mollified, but didn't let go of Bucky's wrist. He leaned further into Bucky's space, then stopped himself, turning his head away and clearing his throat.

"If it _does_ look like something, come back anyway. Don't try to take care of it yourself," he said, looking back up into Bucky's eyes and reluctantly letting go of Bucky's wrist.

"It might not be anything," Bucky said, even though his instincts were screaming otherwise.

Tony gave him _a look,_ telling Bucky that he wasn't fooling anyone.

* * *

The hair on the back of Bucky's neck was still prickling when he stepped away from the outcrop, but he kept his stride even and his body language casual as he continued in the direction he and Tony had been heading.

 _Just scouting ahead a little_ , his body language said. _Nothing to fear, just checking the path ahead, maybe foraging or looking for firewood._

Even though he was making an effort to remain calm and outwardly unworried, he could still feel the Soldier just under the surface, restless and unhappy with the way things were proceeding - and getting more so the further away Bucky got from Tony.

 _Danger, too much danger_ , the Soldier hissed, leaving Bucky struggling with the impulse to turn back.

Bucky took a deep breath and stomped the Soldier back down, surprised by how much effort it took. Other than a flash here and there, the Soldier had been noticeably calmer since he and Tony's escape - something Bucky hadn't truly realized until he'd started feeling him again now.

 _Monster_ , hissed a voice in the back of his head.

Bucky stumbled and then froze, heart hammering in his chest. That _definitely_ hadn't been the Soldier, a realization that made his blood run cold.

 _Kill it, remove it from territory_.

Bucky jerked his head upwards and towards the hilltop to his left, where several large boulders sat. He frowned at it and squinted, some instinct he didn't question telling him to remain focused on it, and noticed a few tiny, displaced pebbles and stones falling down the hill.

Throwing all subtlety out the window, Bucky reached back and drew one of his larger knives.

Because he never took his eyes off the hilltop, he saw it when one of the boulders started to move - and when the large shadow he'd thought was a second boulder _jumped_ , and took a nosedive straight for him.

"You've got to be _fucking kidding me_!" Bucky snarled as he threw himself sideways and the dragon - an actual, honest-to-God _dragon_ \- whooshed over his head.

Its claws scraped at the place where Bucky had been standing, leaving a long, deep gouge in the earth, before it turned and landed with a loud _thump_ Bucky could feel in the ground.

 _Well, at least we know what's been leaving those carcasses_ , Bucky thought hysterically as he scrambled to his feet.

The dragon growled at him, rising up to its full height - at least fifteen feet tall - and spreading its wings, which stretched to nearly twice its height. It let out an ear-piercing roar, then flapped its wings, creating a gust strong enough to knock Bucky off of his feet.

Bucky pushed himself to his feet as it roared and took to the sky again, then scurried backwards and put the steep hill to his back, hoping it would impede the dragon from dive-bombing him again.

The dust from the dragon's takeoff was making it hard to see, but Bucky could still hear its angry snorting, and the flapping of its wings as it circled overhead.

 _Like a cat waiting for a mouse to scurry from its hiding place_ , Bucky thought. Which would only work if the dragon stayed in the air; his position wouldn't cover him at all if the dragon landed and decided to attack him with claws and teeth.

Keeping low and out of the open, Bucky edged back the way he'd came. Maybe, if he could find some cover that would hold, he could wait the dragon out. He couldn't kill it - not with his bare hands and a few knives - but if he could get it to lose interest and fly off...

The dragon roared again, making Bucky brace himself and jerk his head up to see that it was diving - but not at him.

Bucky lowered his gaze, trying to gauge where the dragon would land, and felt his heart stop when he spotted the same thing the dragon had: Tony, completely exposed in what he probably thought was a safe crouch further down the path.

He was scanning the dust cloud, one hand up to shield his eyes, and because he was looking down rather than up, he didn't see the dragon flying towards him.

" _TONY_!" Bucky screamed, abandoning his poor excuse for cover and bolting towards the other man.

Tony jerked and dropped his hand at Bucky's cry, then jumped to his feet -

And promptly tripped and fell forwards.

The dragon gave an angry shriek and whooshed over him, claws inches from his back, then landed about twenty feet behind him, skidding downhill several more feet and leaving another deep gouge in the ground.

Tony rolled sideways and started scrambling towards Bucky, but he was unable to gain any footing and tripped again.

Bucky got to him just as the dragon turned and roared again, wings spread and tail whipping angrily.

"Is that a fucking dragon?!" Tony yelled shrilly while Bucky yanked him up by his arm.

"Maybe it found out about the bath!" Bucky shouted back, keeping a firm grip on Tony's arm as they started running.

"But they're supposed to be extinct!" Tony cried, glancing back over his shoulder and then speeding up.

"Guess it hasn't heard," Bucky panted back, before something large and heavy slammed into his side and sent him stumbling into Tony. He caught Tony around the shoulders and turned so that he would take the brunt of the fall instead of Tony, then turned the move into a roll when he caught the same thing that had hit him coming towards them again out of the corner of his eye.

The dragon's tail slammed down beside them, then whipped over their heads. Keeping his body wrapped protectively around Tony's, Bucky reached for the knife in his belt and slashed at the tail when it swung by again.

The dragon gave an angry howl and yanked its tail back, then turned and snarled at them with a mouthful of sharp teeth.

"Now you've just pissed it off!" Tony hissed, frantically pushing at Bucky to let him up.

"It was already pissed anyway!" Bucky hissed back. He rolled off of Tony and kicked himself to a standing position, keeping his knife up and his eyes on the dragon, then reached back and pulled Tony up by his shirt. "Stay behind me," he ordered, pushing Tony back when he pressed forward to stand at Bucky's side.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath, but whatever he'd been about to say was lost as the dragon roared and swiped at them with its claws.

Bucky shoved Tony backwards and twisted himself just out of reach, then stabbed his knife down into the fleshy part of the dragon's claw - only to have the knife shatter on impact rather than sink in.

Bucky swore and yanked his hand back to reach for another, but before he could get to it the dragon swiped at him with its other claw, knocking him onto his back and leaving a stinging line down Bucky's chest.

Bucky wheezed, the wind knocked out of him, and looked up in time to see the dragon's mouth coming towards him, open wide to display rows of razor-sharp teeth. Behind him, Bucky heard Tony cry his name, but he didn't have the breath to answer. Instead he raised his left arm just as the dragon chomped down, letting it get a mouthful of metal rather than his neck.

The dragon growled, hot, rancid breath blowing over Bucky's face, and locked its jaw around Bucky's arm, wings flapping as it prepared to take off. Bucky kicked out and smacked the dragon's snout, then fumbled for another knife, panic and adrenaline making his movements frantic and clumsy.

Bucky still couldn't see Tony, but he heard his angry cry - which was immediately followed by Tony crashing into Bucky's right side and burying the knife Bucky had given him earlier into the dragon's right eye.

The dragon shrieked in pain, its jaws loosening around Bucky's arm as it reared back. Bucky yanked his arm free and fell into Tony, who wrenched him backwards by one arm and the hood of Bucky's cloak.

The dragon screamed in rage and whipped its tail at them, its fury echoing through the mountains and in Bucky's head.

Tony and Bucky both scrambled backwards, tripping over each other as much as the rocks beneath their feet.

"Okay, now it's _really_ pissed," Tony gasped, one arm still hooked through Bucky's. "What do we do now?"

Bucky gulped in a lungful of air, the dragon's rage making it hard for him to think.

 _Kill it kill it kill it KILL IT_ -

"It wants me more than it wants you," Bucky panted. "If we spl-"

The dragon's tail struck down right beside them, shaking the ground and knocking them both over again. Then the dragon gave an ear-splitting bellow and reared up on its back feat, wings spread and claws ready to tear through them -

A spear appeared in the middle of its right wing, followed by another and an arrow in its left.

The dragon screamed in fury and flipped its body in the direction of the assault, jaw snapping. Yet another arrow shot through its wing, making it howl in pain and whip its tail angrily.

Bucky's mind stuttered to a temporary stop, uncomprehending, before a pained hiss from Tony kicked him back into action. He struggled to stand, pulling Tony by his elbow, only to get knocked down yet again when something - some _one_ \- tackled him from the side with a shout of "Look out!"

Disoriented, Bucky wrapped himself around Tony and swung his arm back, hearing a yelp as his elbow connected with what felt like a stomach. He stopped short of flipping over and taking another swing when the dragon's tail whooshed over their heads, and turned to the newcomer instead.

"Who the hell are you?" Bucky demanded, at the same time the man asked, "Are you alright?"

They stared at each other, varying degrees bewilderment on their faces, until somebody shouted, "Fandral!"

The man jerked in surprise and bounded to his feet, then reached down to help Bucky and Tony up as well. "Right, right, help the citizens in danger," he said, apparently speaking to himself. "If we could just move a ways from the battle…"

"What battle?" Bucky asked, just as the dragon gave another pained, furious roar. Only this time, a hearty bellow, not unlike a war cry, answered it.

Startled, Bucky jerked his gaze back over to the dragon - and was shocked to see a huge, very _human_ man in a bright red cape throw himself at the beast. The dragon snapped its jaws at him, wide, sharp teeth going straight for his arm, but the man only gave another mighty bellow, and slammed the massive hammer he was wielding into the beast's snout. The dragon shrieked and yanked its head back, only to howl louder when yet another warrior appeared, and slashed her sword over its blind eye.

"That battle," said the man standing beside Bucky and Tony, before carefully taking Bucky by the elbow. "Now, if you please..."

"Fandral!" someone called from behind them. "Are you planning on getting them away from danger, or feeding them to the beast yourself?"

Bucky spun around, dislodging the man - Fandral? - from his arm.

Yet another stranger - this one tall and pale, and with dark hair - stood a few feet away, looking bored despite the screams of battle going on just a few yards from them.

"I'm doing more than you are, Loki, so if I were you, I wouldn't cast stones," said Fandral(?), before turning to Bucky and Tony. "So, if we could - damn," he hissed, eyes widening and hand moving to the scabbard at his side.

Behind them, the dragon gave another unholy shriek, and the man called Loki's face twisted in alarm as he cried, "Thor!"

Bucky spun around just in time to see the huge man in the red cape being thrown at them. He ducked down as the man came sailing over their heads, landing with a thump somewhere behind them, but didn't dare look back to check on him as the dragon twirled to face them again.

It was thrashing its head, blind in both eyes now that there was an arrow sticking out of the eye Tony hadn't blinded as well. Around it, three warriors - the female one Bucky had noticed before, and two men Bucky hadn't seen until now - slashed at its legs with their weapons, making it stumble.

It gave another shriek when its right leg went out from under it, and then it fell on its front, head slamming into the ground just a few feet from where Bucky and Tony were standing. It snarled and convulsed, dust coming up from the ground as it snorted, and then started to raise its head…

...only to fall back down, twitch, and go still.

"Well," said Fandral, blinking owlishly. "That wasn't so bad."

* * *

"Who _are_ you people?" Tony demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at the newcomers once they had assembled before him and Bucky.

The huge blond with the cape and the hammer - who looked quite well for having been thrown hard enough to crack his skull - beamed.

"I am Thor, son of Odin, the king of Asgard," he boomed proudly, raising his hammer and bowing.

While Bucky tried to work out if he meant he was king or his father was, the man continued, setting a hand on the shoulder of the pale, dark-haired man Bucky and Tony's original rescuer had called Loki.

"This is my brother, Loki," Loki inclined his head. "Lady Sif," The sole woman raised her sword. "And, of course, the Warriors Three: Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral." The remaining three men all raised their hands or nodded as their names were called - Fandral somehow managing to make his nod look flirty, while the one called Hogun oozed so much solemness that Bucky wanted to offer his condolences on whomever must have recently died in his life.

Tony blinked in bemusement, and uncrossed his arms. "I, uh…" He cleared his throat, then awkwardly bowed his head. "I'm Lord Anthony Stark, of the Kingdom of Aavenge," he said, before motioning to Bucky and adding, "This is - Sir James Barnes, also known as, uh, Bucky."

Bucky gave Tony a _look_ \- he'd never been 'Sir' anything in his entire life, and thought Tony telling these strangers who they both were was a bad idea besides - but Tony quelled him with a look of his own. Then he turned back to the others and said, "I'm sorry, but if you're from Asgard… what are you doing _here_? And how did you even find us?"

Though Tony had directed the question at Thor, it was Loki who answered. "Our ship dropped anchor a little ways from here," he explained, tilting his head in the direction of the coast Bucky and Tony had been trying so hard to get to. "We were hunting and exploring the area when we heard the commotion, and came to investigate."

Thor grinned. "And what a sight met us. You were quite brave, taking on such a beast without sword or shield!"

"It, er, wasn't quite by choice," Bucky replied, swaying a little and grabbing onto Tony's arm for support. He felt suddenly dizzy now that the action was over, and the pain in his chest was now cheerfully reminding him that he'd come dangerously close to being disemboweled by a dragon.

The grin slipped from Thor's face. "Are you in need of a doctor?" he asked worriedly, staring down at the wound on Bucky's chest.

"No," Bucky assured at the same time Tony said, "Yes."

They glared at each other.

The man with a bushy beard - Volstagg, Bucky thought - cleared his throat. "If I may, our ship has an excellent healer. Perhaps you would allow him to take a look at you?" he suggested.

Tony opened his mouth, but Bucky cut him off before he could accept.

"Thank you, but no thank you," Bucky said tersely, ignoring the dirty look Tony gave him. "We're trying to get back to our kingdom as quickly as possible, and we really can't afford a detour."

Thor looked briefly put out, then brightened. "You said you're from Aavenge, yes?" he asked, bouncing from foot to foot. "We're not far from there, by sea, and sailing in that direction besides. What if we took you there in our ship?"

"You would really do that?" Tony asked eagerly, completely ignoring Bucky's look of warning.

Thor's face split in a grin. "Why not? You look like you could use the rest," he said, clapping Tony on the shoulder. "Consider it our way of thanking you for introducing us to such a fine battle!"

"We _really_ couldn't," Bucky said pointedly, staring at Tony and hoping he'd get the hint.

They'd made it this far by themselves, and Bucky wasn't inclined to trust their safety to a bunch of strangers he'd just met.

"Perhaps," Loki suggested cautiously, looking back and forth between them. "You could decide after our healer sees to Sir Barnes?"

Bucky opened his mouth, then shut it, carefully roving his gaze over Loki, then the rest of the Asgardians. Most of them looked indifferent, but Thor was smiling at him hopefully, and fidgeting like an excited puppy.

He felt a light touch on his arm and turned back to Tony, whose face was pinched in worry. "At least let them look at you?" he asked in an undertone, grip tightening on Bucky's arm. "For my peace of mind, if nothing else?"

Bucky hesitated. Then he looked into Tony's wide, pleading eyes, and sighed. "Fine," he muttered, for Tony's ears only. "But we can't let our guard down, okay?"

Tony beamed and nodded eagerly, then turned to the Asgardians and clapped their hands. "Lead the way," he said brightly.

* * *

 **AN** : For a link to artwork by boredbeingregular that goes with this chapter, check out my profile. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**AN** : Two chapters posted today, so don't forget to go back and read chapter 8, too! :)

(Also - yay, we're at the half-way point!)

* * *

The Agardian's ship, the Bifrost, was one of the largest and grandest Bucky had ever laid eyes on. Bucky could tell it impressed Tony as well, since he could practically feel Tony vibrating in excitement and curiosity beside him when they rowed up.

The captain, Heimdall, greeted them once they boarded, but it was Thor who personally escorted them to the ship's sick bay before heading off to help the Warriors Three take care of the dragon's remains.

Though Bucky grudgingly allowed the doctor to take a look at him, he refused to take his shirt off for him, and wouldn't let him actually do anything to treat the wound.

He'd had enough strange 'doctors' poking around his body to last a lifetime, thanks.

"The wound needs to be cleaned and dressed," the doctor protested in frustration, while Tony hovered worriedly behind him. "You need stitches, at least. And a salve to help stave off infection -"

Bucky shook his head and glowered at him. "No, no stitches. I'm fine," he said, crossing his arms and then wincing internally when the move pulled at his cut. "I can clean and bandage it myself."

The doctor scowled. "Not properly, you can't," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "Even great warriors need a healer's touch every now and then, and Prince Thor has specifically ordered me to see to you."

Bucky opened his mouth to tell the guy just where he could stick his 'healer's touch', but then Tony stepped around the doctor and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"What if I do it?" Tony interrupted, looking back over his shoulder at the doctor. "Could you tell me what to do and let me do it instead?"

The doctor hesitated, gaze darting from Tony's face to Bucky's, then sighed. "I suppose," he grumbled, eyeing Tony's hand on Bucky's shoulder. "If you're the only one he's going to let touch him."

Bucky frowned, a protest on the tip of his tongue, but then Tony turned back towards him, eyes pleading, and whispered, "Please?"

"Fine," Bucky relented sullenly, his stomach flipping unpleasantly at the relief on Tony's face. Then he scowled and tipped his head towards the doctor. "But I don't want him in the room."

Tony sighed but gave Bucky's shoulder a reassuring pat, then turned his towards the doctor. "Is that okay with you, doc?

The doctor shook his head and threw his hands in the air. "I suppose I don't have a choice, do I?" he sighed, before turning towards one of the cupboards and taking out some supplies.

Tony listened carefully while the doctor explained what he wanted him to do and set out what he would need. He kept one hand on Bucky the whole time, and didn't remove it until the doctor had finished giving his instructions and left.

"Okay, strip," Tony said, crossing his arms and giving Bucky a stern look.

Under any other circumstances, Bucky might have made a crack about Tony being forward, but with the memory of the hot spring still fresh in his mind, he kept his mouth shut.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Bucky grumbled, gingerly peeling his shirt away from his chest. The bleeding had stopped awhile ago, but the dried blood had adhered the cloth to his skin.

Tony moved to help him, making a face once the cut was exposed, and bit his lip.

"I know what the doc said, but I don't know how to do stitches," he sighed, hand hovering over Bucky's right pectoral, where the cut began.

"Don't need 'em," Bucky replied, leaning back on his forearms while Tony went to wash his hands. "It's already started to heal, and will be mostly gone by tomorrow. Stitches will just make it worse."

The cut was shallow, and the ends had already started to close up - which had been one of the reasons he hadn't wanted the doctor to look at it to begin with. If experience was anything to go by, it would probably be fine without any care, but Bucky didn't think Tony would let him go without, and didn't want to fight him on it.

Tony came back with a bowl of sweet-smelling water the doctor had ordered him to use, set it down beside Bucky, and dipped a washcloth into the water.

"We can clean it up and bandage it, at least," Tony said, tongue between his teeth as he carefully ran the cloth over the edge of the cut. "Does it hurt? And please don't say 'not really' or 'I'm fine', because I saw you wince when you sat down on the table."

Bucky laughed, the muscles in his stomach jumping when Tony laid his other hand against it to steady himself.

"But I _am_ fine," he said, smirking at Tony's sour expression. "And it doesn't hurt as much as it did."

Tony scowled, looking very much like he wanted to dump the bowl over Bucky's head, so Bucky straightened up and decided to change the subject. "So… Sir James? Since when have I been a 'Sir' anything?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I decided to knight you," Tony replied, the corners of his mouth curling up despite his best efforts to remain stern-looking. He wet the cloth again and went back to work cleaning, eyes darting up to Bucky's face and then back down. "If you slay a dragon and defend a lord or lady of the court, you get knighted. It's the rules. You're forever 'Sir James', now."

"I don't think the kingdom actually does knighthoods, anymore," Bucky mused, tilting his head back towards the ceiling. "Besides, the Asgardians are actually the ones who slayed the dragon - and _you_ ended up defending _me_ , remember?"

Tony snorted and set the cloth down, then reached for the jar of salve the doctor had left out. "I remember pissing it off and making it want to eat us even more," he said, unscrewing the lid. "Dragons are far more temperamental than Ana led me to believe." He started applying the salve, once again starting at the top of the cut, then added, "I think we should accept their offer."

Bucky startled and dropped his head, inadvertently making Tony smear some of the salve across his stomach. "What? You can't be serious," he protested, while Tony scowled and grabbed up the cloth again.

"Why not?" Tony said, wiping at the smeared salve and somehow managing to make the mess worse.

"Because we can't _trust_ them," Bucky replied lowly, shooting a suspicious look towards the door. "We don't know these people, Tony. They could be pirates, for all we know."

Tony set the washcloth down and crossed his arms. "I don't know much about Asgard, but I have heard the names Thor and Loki in association with the ruling family," he said stubbornly. "And before you cry imposters - does this ship look like anything a pirate would have?"

Bucky let out a frustrated breath and leaned forward. "Okay, maybe not - but what if they decide we make better hostages than guests, what then?" he demanded. "You wouldn't be the first royal who got caught up in interkingdom politics, and the court - especially Steve and Fury - won't take that lying down."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Does Thor really strike you as the type to do something like that?" he asked skeptically, reaching around Bucky for a roll of bandages.

"I wouldn't know, because _I don't know him_ ," Bucky hissed, catching Tony's forearm to stop his movement and forcing him to pay attention to him. "Which is what I'm trying to say. You may be willing to put your life in their hands, but I'm not."

There was only one person on the entire ship Bucky trusted to keep Tony safe, and that was himself.

Tony blinked up at him in surprise, then looked down at Bucky's hand - which Bucky belated realized was wrapped around Tony's hand instead of his arm, now.

Bucky let go and dropped his hand back into his lap, then cleared his throat. "It's just… it's not safe," he finished lamely, turning his head away.

After a few seconds of silence, Tony laid his hand over Bucky's and gave it a squeeze. Then his free hand brushed against Bucky's chin and gently, but firmly, forced Bucky to turn towards him again.

"No, it's not," Tony agreed softly, brown eyes blazing. "But neither is carrying on as we have." He swallowed, hard, and dropped his eyes down to Bucky's chest. "How many more times do you have to get hurt before you don't get up again?" he asked quietly, the corners of his mouth turned down.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, heart beating a little faster in his chest. "If this is about me… I told you, I -"

"Heal fast, I know," Tony said irritably, and clenched his jaw. "Which is a small fucking comfort to me, when you keep throwing yourself in harm's way to keep poor, weak little Lord Anthony safe."

"You're not weak," Bucky said sharply, twisting his hand around so he could return Tony's grip. "That's not why I - I can't -" He sucked in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. "You're one of the strongest people I've ever met, Tony," he said quietly. "And I'm not going to apologize for trying to protect you when we both know I'm the one who can take the hits and still walk away."

Tony glared. "I don't need protecting," he said angrily, and yanked his hand away. "I need you to stop giving me fucking heart attacks by almost dying and then claiming everything is fine because you seem to think you're immortal!"

Bucky blinked, startled by the outburst. "I don't think I'm immortal," he said cautiously, for a lack of anything else to say.

Tony scowled. "Then stop acting like you are!" he snapped, reaching for the roll of bandages on the table and accidentally knocking them off.

He bent down to pick them up, and stayed crouched down for a few seconds, breathing hard. When he stood up again, he wouldn't meet Bucky's eyes.

"By my calculations, it's going to take us a few weeks at least to make it back to the kingdom on foot by ourselves," he said tersely, wordlessly instructing Bucky to lift his arms. "If we let them take us on their ship, it'll be a week, tops. Plus we'll have food, shelter…" He started wrapping the bandage around Bucky's chest, looping it over his right shoulder a few times as well. "...medicine," he added, finally meeting Bucky's eyes and narrowing his own, as though daring Bucky to argue.

Bucky bit back the retort he could feel building in the back of his throat, and took a deep breath.

"You're making the bandages too tight," he said instead, doing his best to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

Tony's brow furrowed. "I don't want them to fall off," he protested. Even so, he made his next loop looser than the last.

"Yeah, but I still need to breathe, Tony," Bucky replied, even though he knew his sudden shortness of breath had little to do with the bandages and everything to do with the man doing the bandaging.

It had been a long time since anyone but Steve had shown this much concern for him.

Bucky took another deep breath, then forced Tony to stop by tapping his hand. "You really think this is a good idea?" he asked quietly, while Tony tied off the bandage.

"Yes," Tony replied immediately, his shoulders - which Bucky hadn't even realized had been hunched - dropping in relief. "And if it isn't, well." He gave Bucky a half-smile, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "I couldn't help but notice there are several lifeboats we could use to sneak off if we had to. And we've gotten out of worse scrapes before, haven't we?" He laid his hand over Bucky's now-bandaged wound.

Bucky scoffed, then slid his left hand over Tony's.

"I trust you," Bucky said simply, and hoped Tony wouldn't be able to feel his heart pounding in his chest.

* * *

Thor, once he returned to the ship with the others, was delighted to hear of their decision.

"This calls for a feast!" he declared, wrapping an arm around Bucky's shoulders and thunking Tony on the back hard enough to make him cough and stagger a little. "It has been some time since we've had any guests - we can eat and drink to your health, and you can regale us with tales of your adventures!"

Tony gave him a strained smile and straightened up. "Well, I'm not sure how much regaling we can actually do, but I won't say no to some food and a stiff drink," he said, coughing again and thumping his chest.

Bucky's stomach chose that moment to remind him how hungry he was, and growled loudly.

Thor looked down at him in surprise, then grinned. "Aye, then both you shall have. Our stores are not that of what we would have in Asgard, but we have plenty of mead and ale, and our trip to shore was a fruitful one for hunting. Tell me, is there anything in particular you would like?"

Bucky and Tony and looked at each other. "Meat," they said in unison, making Thor chortle and thump both on the back again.

"My friends, you have come to the right ship."

* * *

True to Thor's word, almost as soon as Bucky and Tony sat down goblets were shoved in their hands and plates of charred, unidentified meat were put in front of them.

They dug in immediately, all table manners forgotten - though admittedly, it didn't appear as if they were a high priority to the Asgardians anyway.

Bucky thought not knowing what the meat was should have bothered him more, but as he hungry as he was, he thought it might be better if he didn't ask.

"You may want to pace yourselves, if you haven't had anything heavy in some time," Loki remarked from across the table, head cocked and one eyebrow raised.

Bucky swallowed the bite he had just taken and opened his mouth to reply, but Thor beat him to it.

"Have a heart, brother. This feast is for our guests - let them partake of what they want," he said, grinning at Bucky and then raising his cup towards him.

Bucky hastily lifted his own so Thor wouldn't be left hanging, then chugged it back when Thor did, coughing and instantly regretting it when he got to the bottom. He couldn't get drunk anymore - hadn't been able to since HYDRA - but he was actually starting to feel a little woozy. Loki was probably on to something about pacing themselves.

Loki sighed and leaned away from his brother - who was already shouting for another round of mead - then pushed a pitcher of water towards Bucky and Tony.

"So, Anthony -"

"Tony, please," Tony mumbled around a mouthful of food. "I can't be formal while there is a giant plate of roast, uh -"

"Boar," Sif, who sitting on Tony's other side, supplied helpfully.

"- boar, right, thank you - in front of me."

Loki inclined his head, and though he didn't smile, Bucky got the distinct impression that he was amused.

"Alright. So, Tony," he said, nodding his head. "What's a lord doing out picking battles with dragons?"

Tony reached for his cup, which Bucky noticed was filled with water instead of mead. "I didn't pick a fight with it, it picked a fight with us," he said, catching Bucky's eye and giving him a private little grin.

Bucky bumped his leg against Tony's in response, and noticed Loki's eyes narrow a fraction.

"Even so, I'm curious to hear how you got there," Loki said, glancing between Bucky and Tony curiously. "If I remember your history well, 'Stark' is one of the ruling houses of Aavenge, yes?"

Bucky stiffened, but Tony only chuckled weakly. "It's a rather long story," he said, munching on some bread that had made its way down to their end of the table. "The short version is I got a little… misplaced, and Sir James - Bucky - here, found me, so now we're heading back home."

Bucky just barely managed to withhold a snort, because that was an abridged tale if he'd ever heard one. Tony must have seen it in his expression, because he patted Bucky's thigh under the table.

"To be honest, I'd rather hear what you have all been up to, and what brings you to this corner of the realm," Tony added, leaning forward. "Do you slay dragons often, or was this time a novelty for you?"

There was a round of laughter.

"Not as often as we would like, I'm afraid," Sif said, giving them a closed-mouth smile. "Most of the dragons in Asgard stay well north, so they don't bother our people much. And there's not much reason to hunt something if it's not making a nuisance of itself."

"Unlike some creatures," Hogun - who was beside Bucky - muttered ominously.

Curiosity piqued, Bucky ignored his food for a moment and turned towards him. "What creatures would that be?" he asked.

Hogun made a face, but it was Fandral who answered.

"That would be the beast that brought us to your realm," he said, suddenly looking far less drunk than he had a moment ago.

Tony craned his head around Bucky to look at him. "A beast?" he asked, nose wrinkled.

Thor's eyes turned grave. "A great sea monster," he said, setting his cup down for the first time since they started. "It has been plaguing our shores for the last year, sinking ships and attacking our southern villages."

"The Allfather, King Odin - that is to say, Thor and Loki's father - tasked us with killing it," Fandral added. "Thus far, it has proven itself quite… wily. We chased it away from our sea, but we haven't been able to do more than injure it."

"Yet," Sif muttered, eyes narrowed as she picked up the knife next to her plate.

Loki sighed. "Yet," he agreed, inclining his head towards Sif. Then he turned his attention to Bucky and Tony and added, "We tracked the beast to your shores, and know it's somewhere nearby - it just has to rear its ugly head so we can finish it."

Bucky leaned back, an ominous sense of foreboding taking away the last of his appetite.

Tony must have had a similar feeling, because he sat up straighter and said, "Our shores?"

Thor chuckled and stood, giving the tome of them a confident, reassuring smile. "Fear not, friend Tony. We won't let it terrorize your people as it did ours, nor rest until it's dead," he proclaimed, and raised his cup.

There was a chorus of "Aye!" as the rest of the table - including Loki - raised their cups as well.

Bucky exchanged glances with Tony, who shrugged, then halfheartedly joined the toast. After a beat, Bucky followed suit - even if the prickling sense of foreboding refused to fade.

* * *

Tony and Bucky were given a cabin to share - something Bucky was ridiculously and embarrassingly thankful for - and told to let it be known if either one of them needed anything.

"Still think they're pirates?" Tony asked sleepily, once he had collapsed in his bunk.

"Drank enough," Bucky replied. "What do you make of their sea monster story?"

Tony grunted and, by the sound of it, rolled over. "If we hadn't almost gotten eaten by a dragon, I'd say 'mead', but…" He trailed off, then sighed and rolled over again. "What do _you_ think?"

Bucky swallowed, and tried not to think of glowing red eyes. "I think there are all kinds of monsters in the world," he said softly.

Tony didn't say anything to that. After a few minutes of silence, Bucky craned his head to take a peek at him, and found he'd fallen asleep.

Smiling to himself, Bucky laid his head back down, and tried not to notice how cold and empty his right side felt without Tony's warmth up against it.

* * *

Bucky woke from a light, fitful doze an hour later when Tony crawled into bed beside him.

"'S too cold," Tony mumbled sleepily, when Bucky turned to face him.

Bucky hummed but didn't say anything, and lifted his arm in invitation.

He was fast asleep within minutes of Tony slotting himself under his arm.

* * *

The Bifrost's crew were a lively, hospitable bunch, and within just a few days Bucky could admit to feeling guilty about his initial distrust.

Tony didn't _quite_ gloat about it, other than a slightly smug 'I told you so' on the third day, when Bucky came back from the ship's armory with a sword Hogun and Volstagg had helped him pick out.

Thor, in particular, was hard not to like. Not only was his friendly personality and cheerful nature nearly impossible to resist, he went out of his way to make sure both they were comfortable, giving them tours of the ship, telling jokes, and keeping them company if he found one of them alone. He was quick to laugh, first to smile, and spoke to both Bucky and Tony as though they were old friends, which Bucky - and especially Tony - found endearing.

Heimdall, the captain, rarely ever left his post, but he seemed to always know what was going on on his ship anyway, and didn't mind when Bucky or Tony wandered up to ask a question or observe the deck below. He was quieter, too, than rest of the crew - save for maybe Loki - which Bucky secretly liked, as he seemed content to let Bucky sit up with him in silence when the rest of the ship got too much for Bucky to handle.

Most everyone Bucky met on the ship was welcoming, but, outside of Thor, Tony, and Heimdall, Bucky found himself in the Warriors Three and Sif's company more often than not.

Hogun was solemn and serious most of the time, but was most patient and comprehensive while explaining Asgardian customs. Everything Fandral said or did tended to come off as flirtatious, but Bucky quickly learned that he meant nothing by it, and that he, not unlike Tony, simply like to charm people. Volstagg was probably the friendliest of the three, even if Bucky allowed he likely wasn't the brightest; he was kindhearted, and seemed disturbed by Bucky and especially Tony's lack of weight, so was nearly always trying to feed them.

Sif, Bucky could admit, quickly moved up Bucky's list of top ten toughest warriors he'd ever met. The same day Bucky had acquired a sword Sif had offered to practice with him, much to any onlookers' amusement. Bucky ended up flat on his back and an inch short of hair, but enjoyed it all the same, and sparring with Sif soon became a daily ritual.

No, there weren't too many things about the Asgardians Bucky didn't like. With one exception:

"Ah, I see Loki and Lord Tony have their heads together again," Volstagg remarked, leaning on the railing to Bucky's right.

Bucky gritted his teeth and looked up from watching the deck below, where Tony and Loki were huddled together - again - over some of Loki's books.

"Looks like," Bucky said stiffly, clenching his fists when Tony pointed to something in the book open at Loki's knee, then leaned over into Loki's space to pick it up, bringing his face dangerously close to Loki's.

The sight, unfortunately, was no longer a new one, and once again made Bucky's stomach clench.

"It's quite interesting, really," Volstagg continued, cocking his head. "Loki doesn't usually warm to people, especially strangers, very much."

"He certainly hasn't to me," Bucky said, narrowing his eyes when Loki casually leaned into Tony's side.

"I wouldn't take it personally," Volstagg chortled. "I've known him for years, and he's still frigid as an ice giant to me."

Bucky didn't know what an ice giant was, and wasn't sure he wanted to ask.

"Indeed, Loki has taken quite quickly to Anthony," Heimdall said from behind them.

Bucky didn't quite startle - he'd remembered Heimdall was there, he just hadn't expected him to speak - but Volstagg nearly dropped the bag of sweets he'd started pulling out of his pocket.

"Well, Tony's kinda hard not to like," Bucky said, and nearly winced with how defensive he sounded.

Heimdall wasn't offended, though, and chuckled. "Not unlike Thor, yes?"

"Quite right," Volstagg agreed, once he had recovered. "Perhaps that's it - Thor _is_ the only one Loki ever listens to, after all. Besides the queen." He held his bag out to Bucky. "Sweet?"

Bucky politely declined, and tried to find a way to tactfully point out that the lingering looks he'd caught Loki giving Tony were anything but brotherly. He eventually decided on, "I doubt Tony reminds him of Thor."

Volstagg frowned. "Of course not. He's far too puny," he said glibly.

Behind him, Heimdall gave Bucky a knowing smile - which squashed Bucky's hope that he'd just been overreacting.

Stomach clenching again, Bucky swept his gaze back down to where Loki and Tony were sitting, and saw that the two were staring up at him. Loki looked bland and disinterested, but Tony grinned and waved.

Bucky waved back, but kept his eyes on Loki, and didn't return the grin.

* * *

To Bucky's great annoyance and displeasure, Loki continued to take up nearly all of Tony's time.

When they sat down to breakfast, Loki was there, capturing Tony's attention with a discussion about some book or theorem they had gone over earlier. During the day, Loki was almost always glued to Tony's side, taking him on tours of the ship while explaining the intricacies of Asgardian architecture and culture. He kept touching Tony, too - brushing their arms together, touching Tony's shoulder, leaning against him when they sat down together - in a way that was a little too deliberate for Bucky's liking.

One night, Tony didn't come to bed, so, worried, Bucky went to go hunt him down - only to find him hunkered down in Loki's quarters playing some vaguely chess-like game.

"Sorry," Tony said sheepishly while he and Bucky walked back to their cabin. "I lost track of time. I forgot how much fun a challenge like that could be - Steve's usually the only one who can give me a run for my money, but even then…" He trailed off and gave Bucky a sideways look, picking up on his ire. "Are you mad about something?"

Bucky gritted his teeth. "No, just tired," he said, doing his best to keep the ire out of his tone. He wasn't angry at Tony, after all.

Tony didn't quite buy it, but seemed willing to accept the excuse if Bucky didn't want to talk about it. "Too much sparring with Sif? I saw you two on the deck earlier. Loki says your problem is you're favoring your left side too much for defense, and Sif keeps exploiting it."

"Maybe," Bucky said neutrally, and wondered if Loki would still say that after being on the receiving end of Bucky's left hook.

* * *

The following afternoon, Thor kept Tony after lunch - deep in the retelling of the time he had defeated a particularly aggressive bilgesnipe - so, by chance, Bucky found himself alone with Loki when they both ran into each other on deck.

Loki gave him a slight nod in greeting, then sighed and glanced back from which Bucky had come. "Is my brother still boring Tony with one of his great feats?" he asked in exasperation.

"As far as I know," Bucky said carefully. "What is a bilgesnipe, anyway?"

Loki gave him a sardonic half-smile. "A creature you wouldn't want to meet in a bad mood," he said blithely, before nodding and making as if he were going to walk around Bucky. "If you'll excuse me…"

Bucky started to move, then hesitated, and blocked Loki's way instead.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

Bucky cleared his throat. "Yes, actually," he said, squaring his shoulders. When Loki simply crossed his arms and looked expectant, Bucky continued. "You know Tony's engaged to be married, right?"

Loki cocked his head, his other eyebrow joining the first. "I know. You've both mentioned it before," he said, with no small amount of impatience. "How does this concern me, precisely?"

"It concerns you because you need to leave him alone," Bucky said lowly, crossing his arms and squaring his jaw.

Loki narrowed his eyes. "I beg your pardon?" he said, his voice taking on a very dangerous timbre.

Bucky gritted his teeth. "I've seen the way you look at him," he said, not bothering to hide the displeasure in his own voice. "And touch him, and just -" He stopped and shook his head, jaw working furiously. "He's spoken for. He's not yours."

Loki raised his chin, giving Bucky a hard look. "I see," he said finally, before giving Bucky a slow, ugly smile. "Though I don't think you do."

Bucky uncrossed his arms, resting one hand on the railing beside them and clenching his other fist. "What don't I see?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Loki shrugged, then leaned forward, as though he were telling Bucky a secret. "That he's not yours, either," he said coolly, before turning and walking back the way he came.

Bucky heard a snap, and when he looked down, he found a chunk of loose wood from the railing in his hand.

* * *

Bucky was still silently seething at dinner that evening, partially because Loki's words were still rattling around in his head, but mostly because it was clear Loki was ignoring everything Bucky had said.

Because there he was, sitting with Tony further up the table and leaning closer than was strictly necessary, quietly commanding all of Tony's attention. To make matters worse, he was being extra touchy-feely, too, something Bucky was almost positive he was doing just to prove a point, as he glanced over at Bucky just about every time he did it.

It was almost too much to take, and made Bucky want to smash his plate into the smug bastard's face.

After drinking more mead than was probably good for him, his super liver be damned, Bucky ended up excusing himself early and heading down to his and Tony's cabin.

Half an hour later, the door banged open.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Tony demanded angrily, slamming the door behind him.

Bucky, who'd been in the middle of taking off his boots, froze. "What?"

Tony stomped closer, until he was practically looming over Bucky, and Bucky had to crane his neck up at him. "Did you seriously tell Loki to stop talking to me because I belonged to _Steve_?" he hissed furiously.

Bucky scowled, and made a mental note to wring Loki's neck later. "No, I told him to stop _flirting_ with you because you were with Steve," he said tersely, raising chin.

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

"How dare you - you, of all people - tell someone they can't talk to me because I 'belong' to someone," Tony snarled, nearly shaking with fury. "Like, like I'm a damn dog you're not allowed to pet, because the owner hasn't given permission -"

"That's not what I meant," Bucky said, stricken. He scrambled to stand up, and held his hands out placatingly. "That's not what I meant, Tony, I didn't -"

"So, what? I'm not allowed to have non-Steve approved friends, is that it?" Tony scoffed, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Of course not! I don't-" Bucky cut himself off with a frustrated hiss of air, then scrubbed his hands through hair. "He doesn't want to be your friend, Tony! He knows you're not available, and yet, he still - have you seen the way he looks at you?"

Tony snorted. "You mean, like a fucking intelligent human being who has something interesting to say?" he retorted.

The words felt like a slap to the face.

"What, I'm too stupid for you, now?" Bucky demanded, using anger to cover up the hurt.

Tony's face twitched briefly in surprise, before settling into a scowl. "I didn't say that!"

"It's what you implied!"

They both stopped and glared at each other, breathing hard, before Tony let out a frustrated noise and dug his fingers into his hair.

"I can't - I can't talk to you, right now," he hissed, and turned towards the door.

Without thinking, Bucky moved to block his way.

Tony scowled up at him. "Move," he snapped, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Not until you promise to calm down and _listen_ ," Bucky hissed in frustration. Distantly, he was aware that he was probably making things worse, but at the same time he couldn't stop the part of him that was panicking at the thought of Tony leaving. "Dammit, Tony, I -"

Tony growled angrily and tried to step around him, but Bucky slammed his hand against the door, inadvertently crowding Tony against the wall beside it.

"Please," Bucky pleaded, looking down at him and swallowing hard. "Let me explain."

Tony glowered, then raised his chin defiantly, as though daring Bucky to do just that. And Bucky -

Bucky kissed him.


	10. Chapter 10

The second their lips touched Tony jerked in surprise, then gasped, eyes drifting closed as the fight completely drained from him. His mouth parted easily under Bucky's, making Bucky groan and press his advantage, deepening the kiss with a light swipe of his tongue, and eliciting a soft little sound of surprise from Tony.

Tony tasted almost exactly as Bucky had envisioned - sweet and heady, with an undertone of something unique that could only be Tony. It was intoxicating, and it made the thought of stopping - even for the air his lungs were starting to remind him he needed - a struggle.

Eventually, Tony's hand came up to bat weakly at Bucky's chest; Bucky took the hint and backed off, but didn't go far, his face hovering less than an inch from Tony's.

"It's not real," Tony whispered, breath ghosting across Bucky's lips.

Bucky blinked slowly, thoughts sluggish. "What?"

Tony opened his eyes. "You're drunk," he said, voice strained and eyes flashing with something like hurt. "I can smell the mead on your breath."

Bucky blinked again, confused, and opened his mouth to protest - then realized, with a dawning sense of horror, what he'd just done.

Bucky pushed himself off the wall and took several hasty steps backwards, stomach roiling. "Oh God," he gasped, covering his mouth. "Oh God, Tony, I'm sorry-"

"Don't," Tony said, but he was hugging himself and shaking, and, oh, oh fuck fuck _fuck_ , Bucky had done that, Bucky had -

"I'm sorry," Bucky gasped, making an aborted move to step forward, then thinking better of it. "I shouldn't have, I didn't mean -"

Tony flinched, making Bucky's heart sink. "You've had a lot to drink," he said, still hugging himself and refusing to meet Bucky's eyes.

"Tony, that's not an _excuse_ ," Bucky choked, reaching towards Tony and then stopping and pressing his arms to his middle instead. "I - I would _never_ -"

"No, you wouldn't," Tony said, with a harsh, mirthless little laugh. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and shot Bucky a quick glance before turning away completely. "I think I'm going to get some air," he said, in a tone that was almost normal.

Almost, but not quite.

"Tony," Bucky started, only to stop himself when Tony's shoulders hunched.

Tony paused a second, as though waiting for Bucky to say something else, then sighed and yanked the door open.

And while he didn't slam it on his way out, the sound of it shutting still echoed in Bucky's head.

* * *

 _The Soldier stares at the man that is his mission, sword drawn and ready._

 _"Bucky, please," the man begs, lifting neither his sword or his shield._

 _The Soldier does not know who or what a Bucky is, even if the word does tug at something in his head._

 _"Nothing of concern, child," whispers the soothing, melodious voice of the hydra in his head._

 _The Soldier relaxes and brushes his uncertainty aside, and calmly watches as the man steps closer._

 _"Bucky, it's me," he says, sliding his sword into its scabbard and then lifting his hand to show its emptiness. "I'm your friend."_

 _"You're my mission," the Soldier replies, and then swings his sword at the man's head._

 _The man lifts his shield in time to block the blow, but it still makes him stagger, and gives the Soldier an opening to kick him in the stomach._

 _"Bucky!" the man cries as he crumples to the ground, but the Soldier ignores him, and slashes down with his sword._

 _The man is faster than the Soldier has anticipated, and dodges with only a graze on his side. He deflects the Soldier's next slash with his shield again and rises to his feet._

 _"Bucky," the man pleads, and still doesn't reach for his sword, which, for some reason, makes the Soldier irrationally angry._

 _He swings his sword again, and punches the man in the face when he uses his shield to block the slash. The man makes a halfhearted attempt to fight back, landing a weak blow to the Soldier's stomach and slamming his shield into the Soldier's shoulder._

 _They both go down in the ensuing tussle, kicking and punching, the shield and the Soldier's sword falling to the wayside. An unnatural rage overcomes the Soldier, and he finds himself driving his fist into the man's face repeatedly, while the screaming in his head gets louder and louder._

 _"Bucky," Steve chokes, face bruised and bloody, when the Soldier finally slows down, breathing hard._

 _The Soldier growls and wraps his hands around Steve's neck._

 _"Bucky, wait -"_

 _The Soldier squeezes the man - Steve - his mission's - neck._

 _"B-Bucky -"_

 _The screaming in the Soldier's head won't stop, and neither will the voice of the hydra._

 _"Bucky?"_

 _He just wants it to be quiet._

 _"Bucky, wake up -"_

 _"Shut up!" the Soldier screams, and slams Steve's head against the ground._

 _There's a sickening crack, and Steve goes still, only now, when the Soldier pulls his hands away, he realizes it isn't Steve. The man is too small, hair too dark, and no, no, no no no no no-_

 _"Tony?" Bucky chokes in horror._

 _Tony doesn't respond, doesn't move, doesn't breath, because he's dead, dead dead dead, just like Steve, and Bucky killed him, killed them both -_

 _"Bucky,"_

 _The Soldier - Bucky -_ **_monster_ ** _covers his ears and screams, loud and long and anguished, while the hydra hums softly, lulling him back into sleep…._

 _"It's okay, Bucky. I've got you."_

Bucky didn't startle awake, but it was a near thing. He sucked in a great lungful of air, heart thundering in his chest, and didn't open his eyes, scared that if he did, he would find Tony's still, dead face in front of him again.

Bucky shivered and turned his head, surprised when his face became pressed up against something solid and warm. A familiar, comforting scent engulfed him, which Bucky sank into gratefully, inhaling deeply and then muffling the whine he could feel building in the back of his throat.

Someone shushed him softly, soothingly, and Bucky belatedly realized that there was a hand stroking his hair, feather-light and gentle. Bucky choked down a sob, because he didn't deserve the comfort after what he'd done, but he couldn't pull away from it, either.

"Bucky? Are you awake now?" Tony whispered softly.

Bucky nodded without lifting his head from what he now realized was Tony's stomach, too ashamed to let Tony see his face.

Tony sighed lightly, and then his other hand came up to rest between Bucky's shoulder blades, pressing down and gently rubbing the tension away. "You were having a nightmare. I'm sorry, I tried to wake you, but…"

Bucky shook his head and sucked in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, and started pushing himself up by his elbows.

Tony frowned down at him, then brushed some of the hair away from Bucky's face. "It was a nightmare. You have nothing to be sorry about," he said, tucking Bucky's hair behind his ear.

"No, not about that," Bucky said, sitting up and turning his head so he wouldn't lean into Tony's hand. "About earlier. I-I'm, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have -"

"Forget about it," Tony said, giving him a small, strained smile. "You were drunk, we were both angry… we said and did things we didn't mean. It's okay."

Bucky shook his head, because he hadn't been drunk and hadn't said or done anything he didn't mean, but then Tony surprised him by reaching up and insistently tugging Bucky back down, until his head was lying on Tony's stomach again.

"It's okay," Tony repeated firmly, an odd note to his voice.

Bucky swallowed and nodded, then turned around so he was facing up. Tony immediately moved to brush the hair out of his eyes again, then kept combing his fingers through it.

"Are _you_ okay?" Tony asked after a few minutes of silence.

Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He thought about lying, but then the image of Tony's dead body came to him unbidden, and made his chest constrict.

"No," he admitted hoarsely, before swallowing around his dry throat and sitting up. He moved to the end of the bed, keeping his back to Tony. "I need to tell you something."

A hand settled between Bucky's shoulder blades, and when Bucky chanced a glance at Tony, his brow was crinkled in worry.

"Your nightmare…?"

Bucky shuddered. "No. Yes." He shook his head, then shuddered again. "Don't wanna talk about it," he mumbled, leaning forward and covering his face in his hands.

The bed shifted as Tony moved to sit beside him, a line of warmth all along Bucky's left side. The hand on Bucky's back moved up to his neck, then slid into his hair again.

"What, then?"

Bucky sucked in a deep breath, then another. Then he slowly lowered his hands.

"Do you remember before, when I told you that HYDRA did things to me?" he asked carefully.

Tony blinked, then nodded cautiously. "I… yes. But you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Bucky."

"No, no you need to hear this," Bucky said, shaking his head.

Tony cocked his head in confusion, but Bucky shook his head and plowed on, before he could lose his nerve.

"You see, I - God, I don't even know how to say it," he mumbled, running a hand over his face. "Zola, the man who… enthralled me. Us. All of his soldiers. The thing he - _they_ \- did, that made me strong and fast and and and - _theirs_. It was, they -" Bucky stopped and swallowed, and pulled his legs up so he could hug his knees.

Tony moved his free hand down and wrapped it around Bucky's ankle, both an encouragement and a comfort, which Bucky accepted gratefully.

"There was a cup," Bucky whispered. He'd never told anyone - Steve, Fury, the dozens of doctors and healers Shield and Steve had insisted upon - this particular bit; he'd always claim a fuzzy memory, or that he simply didn't know how. "They'd make us drink from it, right before and after they sent us out."

Bucky had almost looked forward to that cup, with its ability to take away the pain and the confusion and the doubt.

"What was in it?" Tony asked, voice hushed. The hand he had had in Bucky's hair had moved down to Bucky's neck again, and was squeezing lightly, and soft, grounding pressure Bucky could focus on.

Bucky closed his eyes. "The stuff that made me the way I am now," he said. "The stuff that made it so Zola could enthrall me, and forget my own name." He opened his eyes and looked sideways at Tony, his own haunted expression reflected in Tony's wide eyes.

"Blood of the hydra."

* * *

Once it was out in the open, Bucky felt as if a dam had been broken.

He told Tony everything. How he could still remember the faces of the people he'd killed, and often woke with their screams echoing in his ears. How, after Steve had finally tracked him down, he'd tried to kill the man, and would have succeeded had the Black Widow and Sam Wilson not stopped him from strangling him to death.

What it had felt like to taste the hydra's blood on his tongue, and the feeling of peace that had come with it.

"You could hear the hydra's voice, loud and clear as a bell," Bucky said, voice hoarse from all the talking. Tony was sitting up against the headboard, and Bucky was lying down on Tony's stomach again, though he couldn't remember when they had moved. "I don't know if Zola had it under some kind of spell, or if it had him under, or if the whole thing was some kinda deal between the monster and HYDRA's forces. But whatever it was, the thing seemed happy enough with the situation."

Tony made a sound of dissent, curling and uncurling a lock of Bucky's hair around his finger. "I suppose it does answer the question of where they came up with the name," he sighed, startling a sharp bark of laughter from Bucky.

"I'm sorry," he gasped at the look of alarm Tony gave him. "It's just - no one else has ever gotten it, and I've literally been waitin' years for someone else to be in on the joke. It isn't really funny, but I…"

Tony's gave him a strained smile, and lightly pulled at another lock of hair. "If you can't cry about it, might as well laugh," he said, sliding his free hand down to Bucky's bicep and giving it a squeeze.

Bucky let out a shuddery breath, and covered his face with his forearm. "I'd rather laugh," he agreed, moving his arm so he could sneak a peek at Tony, who caught him looking and smiled dolefully.

"You know, there was a rumor…" Tony started, then bit his lip. "There was a rumor that whatever elixir Erskine used on Steve was made with dragon blood. It was only a rumor, since nobody in the kingdom has actually seen a dragon in centuries, but…"

Bucky chuckled weakly. "'Had', he corrected, and lifted his left arm - which still had several dents from the dragon's teeth.

Tony huffed. "Had," he agreed, the hand in Bucky's hair tightening a fraction. "But my point is, if Erskine really did use dragon's blood, than you and Steve -"

"Are still nothing alike," Bucky said bitterly, clenching his fists.

"- are more alike than you think," Tony finished firmly.

Bucky scowled and sat up. "No, we're really not," he snapped, shaking his head. "Don't you see? I'm a _monster_ , Tony. They put monster blood _in me_." He hugged his arms to his middle, feeling an embarrassing burn in his eyes that he was determined to blink away. "I could hear the dragon, before - could feel its blood-lust - and sometimes, like just now, or in my sleep.. I can still hear and feel… _it_ , rattling around in my head."

He looked over and glared at Tony, whose face was pinched in what looked like pain. Trembling, Bucky swallowed and looked down at his lap, then continued.

"There's a big difference from what Erskine did to Steve and what HYDRA did to me. Erskine made Steve into a hero, but HYDRA -"

"Took you against your will, and tried to shape you into something you're not," Tony said sharply, before taking a deep breath and shaking his head. "I'm not saying what Steve _chose_ to do and what happened to you is the same thing. God, that's not… it's not even remotely the same, and just thinking about it makes me want to stick one of your knives through Zola's eye."

He shook his head again, nearly vibrating in anger that wasn't directed at Bucky. Then he let out a long breath and reached out, wrapping his hand around Bucky's wrist.

"I'm just saying... no matter what it was that made you the way you are now, you… who you are, and what you choose to do, now? That's all you." He turned Bucky's wrist over, then set his hand in Bucky's, palm to palm. "HYDRA didn't make you into a monster, Bucky, anymore than Erskine made Steve into a hero," he said, bright eyes pinning Bucky's. "Steve is what made Steve who he is, same as you - not HYDRA - have made you who you are: A guy willing to risk his life to help someone else, and who takes on dragons to keep a friend safe."

He gave Bucky a wry half-smile, then, and added, "Which, speaking of, blows your hydra-blood-makes-a-monster theory straight out of the water, because apparently dragons are very mean and nasty, so I doubt having their blood is any more noble than a hydra's."

Feeling like his throat was going to close up, Bucky blinked rapidly, then let out a wet chuckle. "Yeah, but the hydra was bigger," he said weakly, feeling like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Tony's face shifted through several emotions, before he settled on one of faux-irritation. "Seriously? 'Mine's bigger than his'? You're really going to go there?" He shook his head indignantly. "I'm trying to encourage you, you ass. Stop ruining it," he said, even as his hand tightened around Bucky's.

 _I've got you._

Bucky laughed, the corners of his eyes stinging. Then he wrapped his arm around Tony's shoulders and dragged him against him in a one-armed hug.

"Thank you," he said, burying his nose in Tony's hair.

Tony sighed, his breath warm against Bucky's neck, then nodded minutely.

Bucky closed his eyes, reveling in the closeness. He'd been afraid, after earlier, that he'd lost this, but now...

"I really am sorry, about before," Bucky said quietly, after a few seconds of silence. "With, with Loki, and…"

"S'okay," Tony mumbled, face hidden. "You might have… touched a nerve, reminding me about Steve, and I… overreacted. A bit." He pulled away from Bucky and gave him a quick smile, but didn't make eye contact.

Bucky's heart sank. "So you - you really… with Loki…?"

Tony jerked his head up in surprise. "What? No, of course not! I mean, I like the guy alright, but not…" He stopped and shook his head, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "It's just - look, you reminded me that, even if I, _theoretically_ , did find myself falling for someone else, I'm still engaged to Steve." He gave Bucky an odd, sideways glance, then turned away, flush deepening.

Bucky's heart pounded. "What if..." he began, then stopped and cleared his throat. "What if you _were_ in love with someone else?" he asked, feeling brave. "Would you still marry Steve then?"

Tony's hand - which had been drumming against his leg - stilled. "That… seems like a rather pointed question," he said, after a minute of silence. "You heard me when I said there wasn't anything with Loki, right? I like talking to the guy, but..."

"I'm not talking about Loki," Bucky said, biting his lip. "I just mean… in general. If you…" He stopped, fidgeting nervously, before blurting, "Steve would understand, if you told him. If you told him you loved someone else, and you didn't want…"

He trailed off as Tony shook his head, looking wary. "It wouldn't just be Steve I'd be disappointing," he sighed, tapping his foot against the ground and chewing the inside of his cheek.

Bucky scoffed. "Who? Shield, or your family?" he asked. "Tony, it's not _their_ decision to make."

Tony chuckled. "Well, yes, but I was actually thinking about the kingdom as a whole."

"I highly doubt the entire kingdom really cares if you two get married."

"Then you've underestimated the will of our people," Tony said wryly. "Haven't you heard any of the gossip? We've been the talk of high society from the start."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Bucky snorted. "I'm serious. It's your life, your decision… I know Fury always made it out like there would have been some horrible fall out if you and Steve hadn't decided to do what you did, but really, what's the worst that could happen? Steve becomes king, and then passes the torch to your father in a few years, just like how things have always gone before."

Tony wrinkled his nose, then shook his head. "Completely ignoring the court's reluctance to put Steve on the throne by himself," he sighed. "Rightful or not, people really don't want my father on the throne. It's not a huge secret that Peggy has been running the house more than my father actually does, anymore, and, well." He shrugged. "If he can't even run his own house, how's he going to run a kingdom?"

Bucky frowned. "Then give it to you," he said. "I mean - if it's all going to be rightfully yours in a few years anyway, and everyone is fine with you running things alongside Steve, I don't see how you doing it by yourself is any different."

"We're a family of blacksmiths and engineers," Tony snorted. "Which, sadly, in this day and age, doesn't endear us as competent rulers. Plus at least half of my own house thinks I'm off my rocker - do you really think I'm fit to rule by myself?"

"Yes," Bucky said without hesitation.

Tony startled, then blinked slowly at him, surprise, disbelief, and then something Bucky couldn't identify flashing across his face.

"I… thank you. That, that means a lot," he said softly, mouth trembling. "But, but I…"

He sighed and looked down. "It's just… the kingdom needs to know they're going to be taken care of. And if it takes Steve and I marrying to do that, then, well… who am I to be selfish, and say no?"

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, then shut it. Because really, what could he even say to that?

"Tony," he started softly, but before he could think of anything else to say, the ship gave a great lurch, nearly knocking them both off the end of the bed. "What the hell?!"

Tony grunted and wiggled out from under Bucky, who'd fallen half-over on him, then let out a stream of expletives with the ship lurched again.

"Is it storming?" he demanded, pushing himself to his feet and steadying himself with a hand on the nearest wall. "Heimdall said the weather looked clear, but -"

Another lurch, this one stronger than the last, followed by a loud, wall-vibrating roar that Bucky could feel in his bones.

Tony stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Please tell me that is a normal ship sound, and not another dragon," he pleaded, grabbing onto Bucky's arm when yet another lurch made him stumble closer.

Someone banged on their door, then threw it open.

"The sea monster is attacking!" Fandral shouted.

As if to punctuate his statement, there another great roar.

Bucky and Tony exchanged looks.

"It's not a dragon," Bucky told him, before letting go and dashing after Fandral.


	11. Chapter 11

The ship was buzzing with activity when Bucky burst onto the deck, filled with a cacophony of voices and bodies running to and fro. Bucky picked out both Thor and Heimdall's voices shouting orders, but spotted Sif and Loki first, and immediately made a beeline for them.

"What happened?" he panted when he got to them, grabbing onto the railing when a high wave tossed the ship.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Loki replied waspishly, and lifted his arms. "We're under attack."

"It's the same beast from before," Sif added, ignoring Loki's rudeness. "The one we've been hunting. It showed up out of nowhere - Loki's wards didn't even pick it up. We don't know why, it's never attacked the ship unless we've engaged it first." She sounded truly bewildered, which struck Bucky as odd, considering they'd been hunting the thing.

"Is it possible it, I don't know, picked up on your scent or something?" Bucky asked.

Loki shook his head in agitation. "No. Something is different this time. The creature shouldn't even be able to detect the ship with the cloaking spell I enchanted it with."

"Uh," Bucky said, sure he'd misheard. "I'm sorry, did you say cloaking… _spell_?"

Loki stared at him as though he were a particularly stupid kind of idiot. "Yes, spell - what did you think my purpose was on this hunting party?" he asked bitingly.

"Your charming personality?" Bucky suggested, trying not to scowl. "Look -"

"Knock it off, both of you!" Tony's voice snapped, surprising Bucky. He'd hadn't noticed Tony following him, but in retrospect, he should have known better.

Tony scowled, and pushed his way past Bucky to stand between him and Loki. "We're being attacked by a sea monsters, remember? You can argue later!"

"Thank you, Anthony, you took the words out of my mouth," Sif sniffed irritably, giving Loki and Bucky a look of annoyance. "We don't have time for childish squabbling. If you aren't going to be useful, then you need to get out of the way."

Bucky and Loki glared at each other, but kept their mouths shut.

"So, what's the plan?" Bucky asked, turning back to Sif.

"We kill it," Sif replied bluntly. "And preferably soon, before -"

The ship gave another precarious lurch, sending Tony head-first into Sif and knocking Bucky and Loki into each other.

"That," Loki finished, as he and Bucky helped steady each other. "Blast it, where's Thor? And why is it -"

The ship pitched again, hard enough that Tony and Sif both slipped and nearly fell overboard.

Bucky swore and lurched for Tony at the same time Loki did, but Sif managed to catch him around the waist and haul them back over the railing.

"You need to get below deck, now," Loki snapped, grabbing the back of Tony's shirt and hoisting him to a standing position.

Tony's face twisted angrily, but Bucky cut him off before he could protest. "Tony, he's right. You need to go back down, where it's -"

"I swear to God, Bucky, if you say 'safe' -"

"This isn't the time for games," Sif said sharply. "If you stay here, you're going to be in everyone else's way."

Tony shot her a look of betrayal, then rounded on Bucky. "I'm not running away and _hiding_ , where I can't even tell what's going on," he snapped, chin raised. "Besides, how is below deck any better than up here if the ship ends up sinking?"

"Off the top of my head? There aren't any acid-spitting sea monsters down there," Loki snorted, one hand on his hip.

Bucky noticed there was suddenly a long staff in his other hand, despite the fact the he hadn't seen one anywhere on his person just a second ago. Then he registered what Loki had said.

"It spits acid?" he hissed at the same time Tony did.

Loki chose to answer Tony. "Yes, and it has melted off faces just as pretty as yours," he snapped. "So if you don't _mind_ -"

"QUIET!" Heimdall's voice bellowed.

Immediately, everyone on deck went silent and still, even Thor, who'd been shouting from the ship's stern.

"Listen," Heimdall shouted, staring out into the inky darkness from his place by the ship's wheel.

Everyone obeyed, straining ears and eyes for any signs of displaced water or movement. Then, very slowly, Heimdall turned to the ship's starboard side - the side Bucky, Tony, Loki, and Sif were standing on - and calmly drew his sword.

Beside him, Bucky heard Sif follow suit, and reached for the hilt of his sword as well, relieved he'd had the presence of mind to grab it when he'd gone after Fandral.

"If you must cut it, have a care not to chop off any of its heads," Sif breathed, eyes never leaving the water.

Bucky stiffened. "What?"

"Don't chop off any of its heads," Sif repeated lowly, grip tightening on the hilt of her sword. "If you do it grows more, twice as many and twice as fast as before."

Bucky felt the air freeze in his lungs. Unbidden, the memory of Zola standing over him while he tended to Bucky's stump of an arm came to mind, and in the back of his head, he thought he could hear screaming.

"If you cut off one head, two more take its place," Bucky recited hoarsely, repeating the words Zola had told him, and tasting bile in the back of his throat.

Behind him, Bucky heard Tony suck in a sharp breath.

Loki tilted his head at them. "Yes, how did you -"

He was cut off as the ship pitched beneath them, the wood vibrating under their feet.

Tony hissed something - a warning, a curse, perhaps even Bucky's name - but Bucky paid him no mind, too busy staring at the glowing red eyes he could see in the water.

Then the ship tilted roughly, bouncing on the waves as the monster - the _hydra_ \- rose above the water and screamed in challenge.

A fierce cry went up from the Asgardians in answer, but Bucky felt paralyzed, staring up into the eyes of his worst nightmare come to life.

 _Welcome back, my child_.

* * *

When Bucky came back to himself, he was on his knees, both hands clutching his head, and Tony's voice shouting his name into his ears. Bucky looked up groggily, staring at Tony - who was still yelling at him in a panic - and then looking around the ship.

All around them, the hydra's many heads were screaming and thrashing, whipping out and attacking the ship and its occupants in a violent whirlwind of teeth and claws and venom. The Asgardians were fighting back, some swinging swords and maces and all other manner of weapons, while others fired arrows or threw spears. There was a deep boom from somewhere below them, which Bucky's muddled brain thought might be a cannon, but he knew it would do no good against the hydra, no more than the Asgardians' other weapons would.

Bucky looked back up at Tony, trying to discern what he was saying over the roaring in his ears, and realized Loki was standing over him and speaking as well.

"-is wrong with him?" Loki was shouting at Tony, swinging his strange staff - or was it a sceptre? - around to fend off the hydra's attacks.

"The hydra, it's doing something to him," Tony fretted, fingers digging into Bucky shoulders. But that wasn't right, the hydra wasn't doing anything, Bucky just couldn't, he couldn't -

"Can't," Bucky choked, swaying and clutching his head again. "I can't -"

"Bucky? Bucky, we need to move, we can't stay here, we're sitting ducks -"

"Look out!"

Wood splintered as the hydra slammed one of its heads down against the railing to Bucky's left. Tony cried out and shoved him, hard, in the opposite direction, wrapping his arms around Bucky's head so it wouldn't bounce off the deck when they hit it.

Distantly, Bucky registered pain as his skin scraped against the wooden deck, but it didn't seem important, not with the memory of the hydra's voice echoing in his ears….

"Bucky, look at me!" Tony cried, yanking Bucky's head up until Bucky's face was just inches from his. "It can't take you, I promise, you're not back at that lake. But it can kill you - kill _all_ of us - if you don't snap out of it!"

Bucky blinked sluggishly. Hurt, the hydra could hurt them, hurt them all, hurt Tony - could make _Bucky_ hurt Tony, and Bucky couldn't, _wouldn't_ -

He shoved Tony away from him, scrabbling back and away as fast as he could. Tony yelped and then lurched to his feet to follow him, mouth opened on a cry of Bucky's name -

A chunk of railing from the upper deck fell down between them, halting Tony's efforts. Bucky jerked his head up to see another chunk following it, but Tony's eyes were still on Bucky, so he didn't see it, didn't see that he was directly in its path -

"Tony!" Bucky screamed as Tony was buried under the wood, Tony's cry of pain cutting through the fog of his mind. He lurched to his feet and bolted to him, leaping over the other debri and around two Asgardians wielding bows, but Loki got there first.

Tony was lying with a chunk of railing over his stomach, which Loki moved with a flick of his sceptre. Bucky fell to his knees beside him, eyes locked on Tony's still face, which was smeared with blood from a cut on his head. Someone else dashed up beside them, and when Bucky looked up he saw Hogun, whose gaze flicked between Tony and the battle around them. "Is he…?"

"He's alive, but unconscious," Loki said, before glaring up at Bucky. "You've fought this beast before," he accused, fingers tightening around his sceptre.

"Only every time I close my eyes," Bucky replied through gritted his teeth. A furious, unholy rage burned through his system as he looked down at Tony's prone form, and then around at the damage to the ship. The hydra had come here, for him - he could feel it in his blood, just like the dragon - and put everyone in danger. It had attacked his new friends and dared to hurt Tony, _his_ Tony, when all he'd been trying to do was help Bucky...

"It's coming after me."

Hogun and Loki both startled. "What?"

"It's coming after me," Bucky growled, pushing himself to his feet. "It knows I'm here - it can sense me, that's why it attacked the ship, despite your… wards, or whatever you called them." Bucky clenched his jaw, watching as one of the hydra's heads spit and snarled at Thor, who beat it back with his mighty hammer.

Loki and Hogun exchanged glances.

"Alright, then. If you have such a connection to the beast: how do we kill it?" Loki demanded, standing up as well.

A hydra head screamed and swung towards them, only to howl and change course when Sif leapt at it and took out its eye with her sword.

"Any injury we do it isn't going to kill it," Bucky said harshly. "It heals too fast to do any real damage." He reached for his sword when another head set its sights on them, only to remember that he had dropped it sometime during his panic attack.

Loki stepped in front of him and swung his sceptre at it instead, which turned out to be unnecessary when a volley of arrows buried themselves into its snout.

"We _know_ ," Loki snarled, twisting his sceptre. "Why do you think it _isn't dead yet_?"

Bucky gritted his teeth, mind whirring. "You're the ones who've been hunting it - how were you planning on killing it?"

"Chop off all of its heads one by one, and cauterize them with fire so they couldn't grow back," Hogun replied immediately. He'd lifted Tony up while Bucky's attention was elsewhere, one arm wrapped securely around Tony's waist while holding Tony's arm over his shoulders with the other.

Bucky twitched in surprise. "That… could actually work."

"Yes, in _theory_ ," panted Sif, whose battle had brought her within earshot. "But getting the damn things burned before they grow back has been nigh impossible!"

"And we're running out of time," Loki added in frustration. "The Bifrost is strong, but it will be in splinters before we can destroy every single one of its heads."

Bucky growled and wracked his brain, trying to think of something, anything, that would work. What was his own hydra blood unable to heal? He'd told Tony he healed from just about anything, but that wasn't entirely true.

There was decapitation, for one thing, but they already knew that wasn't going to work here. Bucky could survive most good beatings and stabbings, unless someone took out...

"It's heart," Bucky said, his own thumping loudly in his ears. "We need to find a way to stop its heart!"

Loki's eyes widened. "That's it!"

Sif slashed her sword viciously, and spun out of the way of a spray of acid. "Tell me where its heart _is_ , and I'll gladly cut it out myself," she snarled, wiping blood from her face.

Loki shook his head. "No, I have a better idea, but I need - Thor!" he yelled, turning to look for his brother.

Thor shouted an acknowledgement from the other side of the ship, where he, Fandral, and Volstagg were fighting four heads at once.

Loki swore. "I need Thor and Mjolnir," he said urgently, glancing back at Bucky, Hogun, and Sif. "There's a spell, carved into Mjolnir, but Father removed it - it's just what we need, and I think I can put it to rights."

"What spell?" Sif demanded at the same time Bucky asked, "What are you going to do?"

But Loki was already running off, towards Thor and the others, shouting a "Keep it distracted!" over his shoulder as he went.

Sif snarled something that didn't sound anatomically possible, then glanced quickly at Bucky.

"Can you fight?" she asked gruffly, raising her sword.

Bucky swallowed, and roughly shook away the soft, melodious voice that whispered in the back of his head.

"Yes," he said, clenching his empty fists. "But I don't have a weapon."

"Then take mine," Hogun urged. He was still holding Tony against his side, and hoisted him up a little higher so he could pull his sword free. "I'll watch over Lord Anthony. You said it can sense you, that it came here because it was coming after you - perhaps you can use that to your advantage."

Bucky accepted the sword when it was offered to him, nodding gratefully, then turned to face the hydra.

Sif grinned at him ferally. "Shall we?"

Bucky adjusted his grip and nodded. "Ladies first."

* * *

Physically fighting a hydra, Bucky discovered, wasn't actually all that different from mentally fighting one.

For starters, both endeavors seemed like obstacles nigh impossible to defeat. Every time you thought you had one part of the problem beaten down, and gained something important back - be it a memory, or part of a ship - another part reared its ugly head, and attacked twice as viciously as before, leaving you a sweating ball of confusion and pain.

Both took all of your mental faculties. A second's distraction or weakness was all it took for the hydra to gain a foothold, and once it did, it was easy for it to take another, until there was nothing left but to fight tooth and nail.

And, lastly, in both cases, it was always easier to do with a friend.

"Duck!" Sif cried, slashing her sword over Bucky's head almost before he had complied.

The hydra snout that had been inches from taking off Bucky's head fell to the ground with a thunk, the venom dripping from its teeth burning a hole into the deck.

"Thanks," Bucky panted, straightening and moving so he and Sif were standing back to back. "I thought we weren't supposed to be cutting their heads off."

"I didn't cut off its head, I cut off its mouth," Sif replied, flicking her sword to remove some of the ichor. "Would you rather it have bitten your head off?"

Bucky grunted and hefted his sword when another head came towards them. "Point taken."

Thus far, he and Sif were making a formidable team. Hogun had been right about Bucky using the hydra's draw to him to their advantage - the mere sight of Bucky made the hydra go berserk, no matter what it was doing or whom it was fighting before, enough so that he and Sif had worked out a battle plan around it. Bucky would catch its attention - either by jumping into another's fray, attacking it himself, or simply shouting to make his presence known - and then Sif would slash, blind, or attack it while it was distracted.

Still -

"We can't keep this up forever!" Bucky cried in frustration, slashing at the nearest head and dancing out of the way of a spray of venom. "Whatever Loki is going to do, he needs to do it soon!"

Sif let out a vicious cry and kicked a barrel at a head that had Fandral and another warrior pinned down. "If you have time to talk, you have time to fight," she snapped, glaring upwards at a head that was roaring in the sky, then doing a double-take and gaping at the crow's nest instead. "What in heavens?!"

Bucky spun and followed her gaze, blinking in shock and then swearing to himself when he spotted the same thing she had.

Thor was standing in the crow's nest, staring heavenwards and holding Mjolnir up with one arm.

"Is he out of his mind?!" Bucky shouted. "What the hell does he think he's doing?"

"He's summoning a storm."

Bucky whirled and found Loki standing beside them, face smug as he, too, stared up at his brother.

"He's _what_?"

Loki twirled his sceptre, and gave him a shark-like smile. "Have you ever been struck by lightning, Sir Barnes?"

Then, in the distance, Bucky heard it: a rumble of thunder.

Bucky grunted in confusion, but before he could ask for clarification, one of the hydra's heads spotted Thor as well, and snarled.

Loki cursed and lifted his sceptre. "We need to keep it away from Thor until he's finished!"

Both Sif and Bucky lept into action, but Bucky knew they were already too late - the thing was too high and too far away to attack, and even Bucky couldn't jump that far.

He needn't have worried.

Heimdall leapt from the mast with a snarl, flying straight towards the monster's jaws, and brought his sword down right between its eyes, chopping the head clean in half as he fell. The wood of the deck vibrated as he landed on his feet with nary a wobble, swinging his sword to clean it of the hydra's blood.

The first great drops of rain started falling as he raised his sword, shouting, "Protect Prince Thor!"

A cry went up in answer as the battle resumed, and Bucky leapt over one half of the hydra's head to help Fandral, who'd slipped and fallen next to it.

"That was very glorious and frightening and all, but I've lost count - is that two more heads, or four?" Fandral asked after Bucky gave him a hand up.

"Too many," Bucky grunted, and glanced back up at Thor. Lighting flashed in the sky, temporary lighting up Thor and making him look almost god-like.

A deep, low moan vibrated through the ship.

"What was that?" Fandral yelped.

It happened again - this time even louder than before - and then the ship tilted sideways. People and equipment starting falling, tilting with the ship towards the port side. Bucky and Fandral both seized hold of the foremast to keep from joining them, feet slipping as they tried to stand at the impossible angle.

"It's the beast!" Volstagg howled, clutching a section of the starboard deck railing. "It's trying to capsize the the ship!"

"Hogun!" Fandral suddenly cried.

Bucky followed his gaze, heart leaping into his throat when he spotted Hogun further up, clinging to one of the open hatches with one hand and holding onto Tony with his other.

Horrified, Bucky watched as Hogun's tentative grip started to slip - and then the ship vibrated again, and tilted even further.

Bucky let go of the foremast the exact second Hogun's grip failed, and threw himself in Hogun's path as he slid. Someone - probably Fandral - shouted after him, but Bucky ignored him, digging his metal hand into the deck to slow his descent, and reaching out for Hogun with his right. Hogun spotted him, eyes wide, and threw out his own arm as well, and the second his palm slapped against Bucky's Bucky tightened his grip, and slammed his metal arm right through the Bifrost's deck.

"Thank you!" Hogan panted, hand shaking where it clung to Bucky's.

"Hold on!" Bucky shouted back, and tried to heft him up higher.

A glob of venom splatted down on the deck beside them, tiny drops splashing up to sear at Bucky's skin. The deck sizzled, and then the wood under Bucky's hand started creaking ominously.

"Lord Anthony is slipping!" Hogan cried, while Bucky wiggled and tried to shift their weight.

Bucky swore and tried to wrap his legs around him, the rain and Tony's wet clothes making it even harder, but then his grip on Hogan's hand loosened.

Another set of hands grabbed Hogan's arm before he slipped entirely, hefting him up and past Bucky, and allowing Bucky to seize Tony out of Hogun's tired grasp.

"Dammit, Hogun, have you been eating Volstagg's dinner portions as well?" Loki hissed as he pulled. He was actually standing on the deck, feet stuck to it as if glued, and when Bucky glanced up at them he noticed that they were glowing blue.

Loki helped Hogun tie a rope around himself, then let go of him and turned his attention to Bucky. "Now, quickly, Tony next."

Bucky grunted and started lifting him, adjusting his grip so he wouldn't slip from his arm -

And felt warm, hot breath ghost over the back of his neck.

Bucky slowly turned his head, and was not at all surprised to see the hydra's glowing red eyes mere inches from his.

Bucky yanked his arm out of the deck and dropped just seconds before the hydra spewed a great splatter of venom in the place he'd been hanging. He dug his arm into the deck again, desperate to find purchase, and heard Loki screaming from up above.

"Thor! Now! DO IT NOW!"

A bright flash of lightning exploded from somewhere up above, charging the air and searing Bucky's eyes behind their lids.

There was a great, screaming howl that vibrated deep inside Bucky's skull, a howl of absolute agony, and then a deafening boom.

Dazed and confused, Bucky felt his grip on Tony loosen as they were tossed into the open air, chunks of wood and something else hitting him, hitting them both -

Bucky gasped when he hit the cold water, inadvertently inhaling a mouthful. He choked and spit it out, then kicked to the surface, dragging Tony along with him. Coughing, he pulled both their heads above the water and gulped in great lungfuls of air, nearly choking again when a wave splashed over their heads.

"Hey!" he screamed once he finally had the breath. "Help! Man overboard!"

He looked around frantically, trying to find the Bifrost, the hydra, help, anything. He thought he could hear people shouting his name, but it was impossible to tell over the roar of the storm and the crashing of the waves.

Lighting flashed nearby, letting Bucky briefly see an outline of the ship. It was much further away than Bucky would have expected, too far away to hear his cries and much to far away to see him, but he tried anyway, screaming until his voice was hoarse with it.

A piece of debris floated by, and Bucky hefted Tony and then himself onto it, already exhausted from fighting the waves and trying to keep them both afloat. It started to rain harder, and when another flash of lightning lit the sky, Bucky could no longer see the ship.

"No, _come on_ ," Bucky cried, just as another wave splashed over them, nearly knocking them both off the debris.

"Damn it," Bucky hissed, wrapping an arm around Tony and pulling him back up. "Damn it!"

As if to mock him, more thunder rumbled overhead, and the wind started blowing even harder.

"Damn it," Bucky whispered. Then he clung harder to Tony, dug his fingers into their makeshift raft - and held on.


	12. Chapter 12

Bucky wasn't sure how much time had passed when the storm finally let up. It felt like several hours, though it was probably closer to two or three.

The sky was just starting to lighten, sunrise over the horizon, when Tony groaned and coughed himself back to consciousness.

"Wha -" he choked between coughs. "Wha 'appened? An' why… all wet?"

Bucky wrapped his arm more securely around Tony's middle and heaved, pulling him up higher on their little bit of flotsam. "We fell overboard," he said, trying not to sag with relief. "Do you think you can hold onto this a little tighter for me?"

Tony blinked sluggishly at him, eyes glazed, before nodding slowly and complying. "Over… overboard?" he asked, shaking his head and then wincing.

Bucky nodded and tilted his head forward, where he could just barely spot land in the distance.

"We're not too far out at sea, though. I think the storm actually helped us. The tide had been taking us closer to land," Bucky said, hoping the knowledge would keep Tony from panicking.

Tony grunted in acknowledgement, and when Bucky looked back down at him, his eyes were a little clearer.

"The others?"

"Fine, as far as I know," Bucky sighed, his stomach twinging in guilt. He'd been putting most of his energy into worrying about himself and Tony, and hadn't paid the others much thought. Still - "The ship was mostly in one piece, and I don't think anyone else fell off…"

Tony groaned, then shifted himself higher on the mast. "The hydra…?"

"Dead," Bucky said, cold satisfaction making him smile despite their current situation.

Never again would he wake up wondering where those glowing eyes were, now, or if they would be coming back for him.

As if sensing his mood, Tony sighed and slumped slightly against Bucky, resting his forehead against Bucky's shoulder. "Okay, you win," he gasped, lifting his head. "A hydra is _way_ worse than a dragon."

Bucky nearly choked on his next breath, surprising himself with sharp bark of laughter. Tony grinned tiredly in response, leaning in when Bucky hugged him closer, and closing his eyes when Bucky pressed their foreheads together, still laughing.

* * *

The shoreline looked very far away, but it still took them over an hour to float/awkwardly paddle towards it.

Bucky nearly groaned with relief when his feet finally touched the ground, and had to support Tony when he nearly sagged back into the water.

Once they were further up the beach and a safe distance from the water, they both collapsed, breathing hard and reveling in the feeling of dry land and sand against their backs.

"I'm never getting on another fucking boat ever again," Tony groaned, spreading his arms and grabbing a fistful of sand.

"Agreed," Bucky gasped weakly, closing his eyes. He couldn't ever remember being this exhausted, and a part of him wanted to just roll over to Tony and go to sleep for a few hours, even if common sense was telling him to get back up and at least get a lay of the land.

If any other monsters came at them from the sea or the sky, they were probably going to die, because Bucky didn't have much fight left in him.

"Where the hell even are we, anyway?" Tony asked, sounding as exhausted as Bucky felt.

"No idea," Bucky mumbled without opening his eyes. He lifted his left arm and gave it a shake, hoping to rid it of some of the seawater he could actually hear sloshing around. Usually the thing was air-tight - or at least waterproof - but the dents from the dragon's teeth combined with hours at sea didn't appear to have done it much good.

"Bucky," Tony said suddenly, an odd note to his voice.

Figuring Tony was probably about to scold him for improper care of his arm, Bucky dropped it and sighed. "Hmmm?"

" _Bucky_ ," Tony repeated, definitely alarmed, now.

Bucky grunted and, with herculean effort, opened his eyes. "What?" he mumbled, and started sitting up -

Only to freeze when he spotted the dozen or so people surrounding them, their weapons all pointed at Bucky and Tony.

Bucky swallowed and glanced over at Tony, who was staring down a spear pointed perilously close to his face.

"Oh, shit," Bucky sighed.

* * *

"Well, I suppose a jungle is a nice change," Tony said conversationally as they were marched along a path Bucky could barely see, but their new guards had no trouble navigating. "A little more scenic, anyway. We've been surrounded by sand, rocks, water…"

"I suppose that's something," Bucky agreed, even if the presence of a tropical jungle alarmed him more than anything else. He didn't know of any jungles on the continent, which meant the storm must have blown them pretty far off course, and that they were even further from home than he had thought.

The warriors that had subdued them on the beach - all women, Bucky had later noticed - hadn't really seemed to care when Tony had tried to tell them he and Bucky were lost. They hadn't tried to restrain the two of them in any way - Bucky suspected because they'd looked too sad and weak to actually put up much of a fight - and, after a quick conversation in a language Bucky hadn't recognized, had calmly told the two of them to stand and follow them - the 'or else' unsaid, but implied.

"You know, this has been the most bizarre few weeks of my life," Tony sighed, stepping under a giant green leaf one of the warriors had politely lifted out of the way for him.

Bucky huffed a little. "Mine, too," he agreed. "And I spent time brainwashed by a giant lizard with multiple heads."

Tony laughed, which turned into a cough. He winced and pressed a hand to his chest, then pitched sideways.

"Tony!" Bucky cried, springing forward at the same time of their guards did. Bucky got there first and caught him before he could fall, but the guard took Tony's other side in an instant, and together they helped lower him to the ground.

"'m fine," Tony mumbled, trying to sit up and batting weakly at Bucky's chest when he wouldn't let him. "Sorry, got a little dizzy…"

One of the other warriors crouched down beside them, brow furrowed in concern. "Here, drink this," she said, pulling out a container of water and holding it up to Tony's face.

Tony wrinkled his nose and turned his head away, until Bucky took it from her and offered it to him instead.

"Is he ill?" the guard asked, frowning, while Bucky reminded Tony to drink small sips.

"He hit his head," Bucky replied, letting go of the container when Tony grumbled and started tilting it himself. "And we were adrift at sea for hours - he hasn't had anything to eat or drink since."

" _We_ haven't had anything to eat or drink," Tony grumbled in irritation, pulling off and lifting the water to Bucky.

The guard frowned again, then turned her head and barked something Bucky didn't understand. One of the other guards stepped forward, then crouched down and offered a small pouch to Bucky.

"Eat," the guard said, when Bucky opened the pouch and found a bunch of what looked like some kind of nut. "The palace isn't far, and the king won't appreciate it if you die before he can even question you."

"King?" Tony grunted, at the same time Bucky asked, "You're taking us to see your king?"

The guard raised an eyebrow. "We don't get uninvited guests here very often. He'll want to see you for himself."

Bucky frowned, mind whirring, while Tony groaned and sat up a little straighter.

"And just where… is here, anyway?" Tony asked, squinting.

The woman cocked her head, scrutinizing them, before giving them an inexplicable smile. "Welcome to Wakanda, gentlemen."

* * *

While the name 'Wakanda' sounded only vaguely familiar to Bucky, it meant something to Tony, who perked up quite a bit despite his exhaustion.

"Wakanda is where all the vibranium comes from," he told Bucky in a low voice, once they and the Wakandans started their trek again. "This… might actually be a good thing. It's not much, but the kingdom does do a little bit of trading with them. If we get an audience with the king, we might be able to convince him to get a message back home."

"If you say so," Bucky said, biting his lip. The whole situation still made him nervous, however. "What do you know about the king?"

Tony looked over his shoulder at one of the Wakandans, then turned back to Bucky and shrugged. "Absolutely nothing," he admitted. "Something makes me think there was a change in the crown recently, but other than that…" He shrugged again.

Bucky chewed the inside of his cheek, and reminded himself that he'd been distrustful of the Asgardians at first, too.

"Okay," Bucky said slowly, reaching out and taking Tony's elbow under the guise of helping him along. "I guess we'll play it by ear. Besides," He grimaced. "We don't really have much of a choice, do we?"

"No," said an amused-sounding Wakandan to their left. "You really don't."

* * *

That he could remember, Bucky had been to Marvel Castle exactly three times.

The first time had been when he was just a teenager, and had offered to go with some of the local trading merchants in order to make a few extra coins. He hadn't gone farther than the castle walls, at the time, but still remembered staring at the fortress in awe as they left, and excitedly describing it to Steve when he returned home.

The second time had been just before his garrison had set out to war, and then he'd only gotten as far as the castle courtyard for what was supposed to have been a rousing speech. Though he'd been considerably less starry-eyed thanks to a combination of nerves and homesickness, he'd still marveled at the castle's magnificence, and looked back twice when they marched on.

The third time, he finally got to see the inside - but only because the castle's dungeons had been deemed the only ones fit to hold one of HYDRA's Winter Soldiers.

In each case - even the last - Bucky had left able to appreciate the grandness and the magnitude of the place.

The Wakandan Palace, however, made Marvel Castle look like a cheaply-made tool shed in comparison.

"Holy shit," Tony whispered, echoing Bucky's sentiments as well.

One of their Wakandan guides laughed.

They were directed to climb a steep incline of stone steps that did little to wind Bucky, but left Tony sweaty and panting, despite their guides letting him take them at his own pace. Worried about another wave of vertigo, Bucky hovered anxiously at his side, even though half of his attention kept returning their surroundings.

For some reason, Bucky was getting a strange sense of deja vu. The area - everything from the stairs and the view, to the river that ran around the palace and the waterfall that jutted from under the grand balcony and windows he could see even from here - looked weirdly familiar, in a way that made Bucky's earlier nervousness spike.

The feeling got even worse once they were actually inside. Bucky frowned, his unease growing, while Tony craned his neck looking around, eyes bright with curiosity despite his obvious exhaustion.

"Wakanda is one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world," he whispered to Bucky as they were lead through several great halls and chambers. "I've always wanted to study some of their methods, but…"

Bucky hummed and nodded distractedly, staring at the junction up ahead, and somehow knowing they were going to turn down the left corridor before they actually did.

Throat dry, Bucky linked his arm through Tony's, then whispered, "I don't think this was such a good idea," out of the corner of this mouth.

Tony looked at him sideways, frowning, but didn't dismiss him out of hand. "Why not?"

Bucky tried to find a way to explain, only to become distracted by the large double-doors their group had stopped in front of instead.

 _Slide in quickly, quietly, step around the blood -_

"Tony," Bucky breathed, feeling sick. "I think I've been here before."

Tony blinked, face scrunching in confusion. "What?" he asked, while the Wakandans opened the doors. "Are you sure? When would you have been in -" And then he stopped, eyes widening as he came to the same conclusion Bucky had.

There was only one reason Bucky could have been here before, and if the Winter Soldier had been in Wakanda, he couldn't have been doing anything good.

Before either one of them could say or do anything else, they were ushered forward and through the doors into a large, spacious chamber.

Bucky gulped and tried to suck in a breath that wouldn't come, because he remembered this room, remembered the blood -

"My people tell me they found you on our beach," said the man at the far edge of the room.

He was standing with his back to them, staring out into the jungle Bucky could see through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His voice echoed loudly in the room, setting Bucky's teeth on edge and opening a floodgate of fresh memories.

 _Keep footsteps soft, knife steady -_

 _"Who are you? How did -"_

 _A swift slash of the blade, a quick, if not clean, death -_

Tony's grip tightened on Bucky's arm, bringing him back to reality and grounding him in the present.

"Quite by accident, we assure you," Tony said, after clearing his throat. "We were, ah, a little ship-impaired at the moment, and your shore -"

The man - the king - chuckled, then turned around. "Sounds like quite a tale," he said as he walked towards them, hands hooked casually behind his back. "And one I think I would -" He cut himself off and stopped dead in his tracks, all trace of amusement draining from his face as he locked eyes on Bucky. Then his eyes narrowed, expression morphing into shock and then fury.

" _You_ ," he snarled, and then all hell broke loose.

* * *

 _The Soldier stared down at the dead man in front of him, watching dispassionately as the puddle of blood at his feet grew larger._

 _The kill itself had not been difficult; in fact, it had been ridiculously easy, but getting through the jungle, into the palace, and past the guards without detection had not been, and had required days of preparation._

 _All that was left of his mission now, however, was to return to his handlers with news of its completion._

 _Wiping his knife on his pants to clear it of the blood, the Soldier was just preparing to leave when the door behind him creaked open._

 _"Baba?"_

 _The Soldier hesitated. Ordinarily, he was told not to leave any witnesses, but this time, his only instructions had been to kill the Wakandan king, and not be discovered beforehand._

 _Before he could decide either way, a light flickered behind him, followed immediately by a sharp intake of breath. The Soldier turned and locked eyes briefly with the man standing in the doorway, before the man's gaze lowered to the body on the floor._

 _The man's eyes widened in horror, an anguished cry escaping his throat before the Soldier had a chance to silence him. Taking advantage of the distraction, the Soldier darted forward while the man's eyes were no longer on him, knocking the light from the man's hands as he rushed past and through the open door, his escape route already in his head._

On that night not so long ago, shock and grief had kept the Wakandan prince from attacking the man who had murdered his father.

Today, however, the now-king had no such hesitation - he launched himself at Bucky at the same time two of the guards behind Bucky startled into action, unsure of their king's reasoning but loyally backing him up anyway.

Bucky shoved Tony away from him and ducked down, using the king's rage and the guards' uncertainty to his advantage. He kicked out at one of the guard's legs, tripping her up and knocking her into the king, and seized the other one's spear, breaking it under his hand and throwing her off balance.

The other guards sprung into action with an enraged cry; Bucky pelted the broken end of the spear at one and slammed his elbow into the face of another, twisting around and kicking the latter into the king when he tried to rejoin the fray.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw the guard with the broken spear tear away from the group with an angry shout and advance towards Tony, who was only just managing to struggle to his feet.

Someone slammed into Bucky's side while he was distracted, temporarily knocking the wind out of him; Bucky turned and punched them in the face, then leaped towards the guard advancing on Tony and tackled her. They both skidded several feet across the slippery floor, plowing into Tony and inadvertently bringing them closer to the open door.

Bucky rolled and smacked the guard's head into the ground. "Run!" he shouted at Tony, shoving him so he would slid the rest of the way through the door.

Tony grunted and rolled to his feet with surprising speed, but stopped short of running, hesitating in the doorway instead.

Bucky swore and lurched to his feet, dodging between two more bodies as he bolted towards Tony.

"Catch him, don't let them leave!" the king bellowed, spurring Bucky to speed up.

He didn't stop at the door, just seized Tony's arm and kept running, half-dragging Tony along beside him.

"The fuck did you do?!" Tony shouted, legs scrambling to keep up with Bucky's.

"I think I might have assassinated their king," Bucky panted back, grip tightening on Tony's arm as they rounded a corner and nearly skidded into the opposite wall.

"You _what_?!"

More guards were pouring out of nowhere, shouting and giving chase, but Bucky didn't stop to engage any of them. If his memory served him right - God, he hoped his memory was right - their ticket to freedom was just a little bit farther, just another turn…

"Where the hell are we going?" Tony wheezed when they ran down a dark hallway, passing a fierce-looking panther statue. "The exit was the other way!"

"Just trust me," Bucky puffed, praying he wasn't leading Tony to his death.

They turned another corner, and for one brief, heart-stopping second, Bucky feared it was the wrong one - and then he spotted the balcony ahead, exactly where he remembered it, and nearly cried with relief.

He sped up, knowing this was the right one when he heard the rush of the waterfall outside, but then Tony's arm jerked in his hand. "Oh, no," he groaned, when Bucky didn't slow down. "Oh, hell no, _Bucky_ -"

"We can't go back the other way," Bucky told him, tugging insistently at his arm when he started flagging.

"We can't _fly_ , either!" Tony sputtered, though he sped up when the Wakandans' shouting became louder.

"The river's right below us, it'll break our fall," Bucky said, letting Tony hear the desperation in his voice. "We're going to have to jump, but we can't slow down -"

" _Fuck_ -"

"Tony, please, you have to trust me!"

For a split-second, Bucky didn't think he would.

Then Tony swore and started running harder, a steady mantra of "Damnitdamnitdamnit _damnitDAMNIT_ " falling from his lips -

And, when they reached the balcony railing, he vaulted over it at the same time as Bucky, and jumped.

* * *

The river's current was stronger and swifter than Bucky had expected. It carried him away from the palace, but it was a fight to keep it from pulling him under. And if he was having trouble with his enhanced strength...

"Tony!" he yelled, panic and desperation clawing at his throat. He'd heard him splash down right beside him, but he hadn't heard or seen anything since, and if he'd never gotten back to the surface -

"Tony?! _Tony!_ "

"Over here!" came the faint cry from somewhere to Bucky's left.

Bucky turned towards it and nearly sobbed when he saw Tony's dark head bobbing above the water a few feet away.

Bucky fought the current to swim towards him, panicking when Tony's head disappeared below the surface. He reappeared a few seconds later, coughing and sputtering and even further away, his face panicked before he spotted Bucky again.

Bucky doubled his efforts so Tony wouldn't exhaust himself trying to swim to him, and breathed a sigh of relief when they both hit a current that brought them closer.

"This was a stupid-ass plan!" Tony sputtered when Bucky finally reached him.

"Just try to stay calm," Bucky said, even though he himself felt anything but.

The look Tony gave him promised violence later, but Bucky was more concerned with the nearly gray pallor of his skin.

Tony could not physically handle this for much longer, and with the current as it was, Bucky wasn't sure he'd be able to keep both their heads above water by himself.

Bucky looked around in desperation, trying to gauge the width of the river as well as the distance from the nearest bank.

Tony coughed and tapped him on the shoulder. "Look," he said, and pointed up ahead, where the current was taking them.

The trees were closer to the river there, close enough that several had exposed roots at the bank, and branches that hung low over the water. Low enough, in fact, that if Bucky reached up -

"Grab onto my hand," Bucky told Tony, locking his gaze on the branch he wanted.

Tony complied, hand scrabbling a second before it finally found Bucky's, his grip worryingly weaker than Bucky had expected. Bucky tightened his own to compensate, and threw Tony what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

He missed the first branch he reached for, his wet hand slipping off the bark, but the second he caught and held fast, pulling himself and then Tony up onto it, until they were both straddling it.

Tony coughed and choked, then leaned over and retched while Bucky held him by wrapping his arms around his middle.

"High places and water," Tony gasped once he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Bucky ran a hand up and down Tony's back. "What?"

Tony coughed and leaned back against Bucky's shoulder, tilting his head back so Bucky could see his face. "High places and large bodies of water," he repeated, words slurring with exhaustion. "Two things I am never, ever going anywhere near with you ever again."

And then he took any sting out of the words by grinning and closing his eyes.

Bucky chuckled. "Fair enough," he sighed, and hugged Tony closer. Then he brushed his lips against Tony's temple, too exhausted to filter his emotions, and certain Tony was too tired to notice anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN** : Another double post since I've been remiss in posting the last few days. So don't forget to read chapter 12, too!

* * *

"They're probably out looking for us now," Tony sighed, voice tired and raspy.

Bucky thought that was stating the obvious, but didn't say so aloud. "In their defense, I did murder their king," he pointed out instead, bending some greenery that was in the way and motioning for Tony to go forward.

Several hours had passed since they had pulled themselves from the river. By unanimous agreement, they had put as much distance as physically possible between themselves and its banks, hoping the Wakandans would think they had continued following it rather than trek through the jungle. They still weren't quite as far as Bucky would have liked, however, so he compensated by trying to make them as hard to track as possible.

Carefully moving the greenery back so it would look undisturbed, Bucky returned his attention to Tony. He still didn't look so good; they were both exhausted, but Bucky, at least, had his enhanced stamina to keep him from falling over outright. Tony, however, looked dead on his feet, and as much as Bucky wanted to stop and let him rest, he knew they needed to keep moving.

"Do you think you can go a little farther?" Bucky asked, hating himself.

Tony turned his head towards him and scowled. "Don't patronize me," he grumbled crankily, pushing off the tree he'd been leaning against and then wincing despite his words. "I'm _fine_ ," he added before Bucky could say anything, one hand rubbing his chest. "Just point me in the direction we should be going and let's go."

Bucky hesitated, worry eating a pit in his stomach, but nodded and started walking.

* * *

Bucky didn't notice Tony's fever until night had fallen, and Tony began shivering.

"M'fine," Tony mumbled when Bucky forced him to stop. "Jus', just cold."

Alarm shot through Bucky, cold and sharp, because the jungle was a lot of things, but cold was not one of them.

He gently forced Tony to sit down on a fallen log, alarm growing when he felt the heat through the Tony's clothes.

Tony closed his eyes and leaned into Bucky's hand when he placed it Tony's forehead.

"Shit, you're burning up," Bucky said hoarsely, cursing himself for not noticing sooner.

Tony hummed and shook his head.. "'M'not. Cold," he insisted, shivering and leaning forward, until his cheek was resting against Bucky's shoulder. "You're warm," he added, sighing happily when Bucky dug his fingers into his sweaty hair.

"You feel cold because you're running a fever," Bucky said, even though he knew Tony had to have known that already. He swallowed thickly, his chest and stomach tightening in guilt. He should have known something was wrong when Tony had started coughing more and getting quieter.

Tony hummed again and burrowed closer, until his face was scorching the exposed skin on Bucky's neck. "Stop that," he mumbled, before breaking out into a fit of coughs.

Bucky held him through the coughing and changed their angle to open up Tony's airways, something he remembered from Steve's pre-elixir days. "Stop what?"

Tony sighed. "Worrying," he grumbled. "This is why I didn't say anything earlier. 'S just a cold, I'll feel better after a little -" He yawned. "- rest. 'Less you think we shou' go a little longer…?"

"No," Bucky said quickly. He shifted around until he was sitting on the ground, his back to the log, maneuvering Tony until he was sprawled comfortably across Bucky's lap and torso. It was hot and a little uncomfortable, but Bucky didn't care so long as Tony was relaxed and comfy. "We've gone far enough, we can rest for a little while. It's getting too dark to keep moving, anyway."

Tony nodded sleepily, his body already going loose and limp. "Mmmkay," he mumbled, breath puffing against Bucky's throat.

* * *

To Bucky's dismay, Tony's wasn't any better the next morning. If nothing else, he was worse.

His fever had risen even higher during the night, and the shivers had become more violent. Bucky tried to coax some water and a few of the nuts the Wakandans had given them into him, only to have Tony throw it all back up again a few minutes later.

What concerned Bucky the most, however, was how worryingly labored Tony's breathing had become. He remembered when Stevie had gotten that same rattle in his chest when they were kids, how the doctors and healers had taken Steve's mother aside, and quietly told her to prepare for the worst, pray for the best if she was of a religious mind. It had terrified Bucky then, and having it happen to Tony, now, while they were alone and helpless to do anything about it, terrified Bucky even more.

"Tony, please, just a little bit of water. For me? You have to drink something," Bucky coaxed, trying to keep the panic and desperation out of his voice.

Tony whined but opened his mouth, only to choke when he was struck by a violent round of coughs that made retch.

"Hurts," Tony whimpered, once the coughing and retching had stopped, and Bucky had guided him to lay back against Bucky. "Chest. H-hurts… to breath."

"Shhh, it's okay," Bucky soothed, rocking them both back and forth. He didn't even know if he was comforting himself or Tony, but figured letting Tony see how scared he was wasn't a good idea either way.

"There's a village, not far from here," Bucky whispered, lips moving against Tony's temple. "I saw it when I went to find water. I think… maybe there's some medicine, there, that can help. Or a doctor, or maybe…" He winced when Tony gave another pained whimper. "...something to help with the pain. I'll have to go by myself, but I think I can make it quick. Okay?"

Tony didn't answer, already under in a fitful doze.

* * *

Though Bucky was terrified of leaving Tony alone, he was even more terrified of what would happen if he didn't find him some medicine or a doctor, and knew Tony was in no state to be moved.

"I'll be right back," he told Tony's semi-conscious form, brushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

Tony mumbled incoherently and leaned into the touch, but made no other indication that he had heard Bucky, or even understood him.

Bucky watched him for several more minutes before he departed, throat tight and chest aching.

The trip took very little time, in part because Bucky had mostly discarded any form of stealth - a move he knew was reckless, though the part of him that was just thinking of Tony didn't much care. Still, he forced himself to slow down and be more careful once he was closer to the village - a move that paid off when, not but five minutes later, he spotted the hunting party of palace guards up ahead.

Frustrated but not defeated, Bucky backtracked and went around, taking a slightly harder route, only to find yet another party even closer to the village.

Desperate, Bucky tried once more, moving around until he was approaching the village from the complete opposite side, and found himself stymied by an even larger force of Wakandans.

Bucky gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into his hair, his training and the Soldier's discipline the only things keeping him from screaming in frustration.

Tony needed medicine, but he wasn't going to get it here, not with the perimeter around the village as well-guarded as it was. And if they were going to that much trouble to guard it, it meant the people inside had probably been warned about him, and the chances of Bucky finding anyone that could help Tony had just dropped to practically nothing.

It also meant there was a good chance they knew Bucky and Tony were in the area. And Bucky had left Tony alone, sick and unable to defend himself.

Cursing, Bucky turned back around, and hoped he could get to Tony before the Wakandans did.

* * *

Tony was not where Bucky had left him when Bucky returned.

Fear stabbed through Bucky like a hot poker, acrid and sharp. He'd left him right here, lying down, right over there, right -

"Tony?!" he called, high and panicked, temporarily forgetting the need for secrecy. He strained his ears listening, hoping for something - an answer, a cough, the sound of Tony's harsh breathing, anything - that would alert him to Tony's presence.

When he was met with nothing but the sounds of the jungle, Bucky cursed and frantically began looking for something, anything, that would give him a clue as to Tony's whereabouts. Bucky prayed he hadn't been found and taken, though the cool, logical side of him thought that if he had, Bucky himself would have been ambushed by now. The ground was disturbed where Tony had been laying, as well as a few feet away. Maybe Tony had woken up, and moved on his own? He was too sick to go far, but maybe…

Following his instincts, Bucky canvassed the immediate area, concentrating on where the trail was easiest. His breath caught when he spotted another patch of disturbed earth, and when he bent down to examine it, a splash of color a few feet away caught his eye.

And there, leaning against a tree hidden in the greenery just a few feet away, was Tony. Choking back a relieved sob, Bucky rushed over to him, falling to his knees and sliding a hand behind Tony's lolling head.

He looked even worse than before, deathly pale, with a few scratches from his short journey, and -

He wasn't breathing.

"No," Bucky whispered, heart seizing. "No, no no no no no, Tony, sweetheart, don't do this to me -"

He shook Tony's shoulders and gently slapped at his cheeks, his terror rising when Tony didn't react to either.

"No, no, please," Bucky gasped, chest and eyes burning as he pulled Tony into his arms, fingers frantically scrabbling at his neck for a pulse. "Please, Tony, please please please _please_ …"

He choked when he finally found a pulse, weak but there, and panicked further as he tried to think of what to do. There was a, a technique, wasn't there? That some of the doctors had used during the war? They tilted the patient's head back, opened their airways, and breathed for them, or something, Bucky couldn't remember the whys or the hows, just bits and pieces, and that it had worked, but what if he did it wrong, and made things worse, or or or -

A sharp, shallow intake of breath, and a weak cough.

"Tony?" Bucky whispered, freezing and blinking back tears.

Another cough, and then a soft rattle as Tony struggled to take in another breath.

Bucky let out a sob and buried his face in Tony's hair, carefully wrapping him in his arms and rocking him back and forth. He willed Tony to keep breathing, and began counting Tony's breaths - five, ten, twenty, thirty - not relaxing until Tony had made it all the way to fifty without skipping any.

Still, Bucky knew the danger was far from over. For one, Tony's fever felt, impossibly, even higher than before. For another, he wasn't waking up at all, despite all of Bucky's manhandling.

"Tony, sweetheart, you need to wake up for me," Bucky whispered hoarsely, stroking Tony's cheek.

Tony didn't move, didn't so much as twitch, other than the slight rise and fall of his chest as his lungs made their desperate bid for air.

Bucky closed his eyes.

Tony needed more than medicine. He needed a doctor, and if he didn't get one, he was going to die.

The thought made Bucky's stomach turned to ice.

He opened his eyes, then looked down at Tony, whose breath wheezed out as a pained, terrifyingly fragile thing - and made a decision.

"It'll be okay, Tony," Bucky promised, adjusting Tony's prone form in his arms. "We're going to get you some help."

He could only hope they'd be willing to actually do so.

* * *

The journey was slow going now that he was carrying Tony, but since they weren't going far, Bucky didn't think it much mattered.

"Just a little bit further, doll," Bucky assured Tony, even though he was certain Tony couldn't actually hear him.

Two of the Wakandan king's people were already tailing him, but they hadn't yet engaged him, so Bucky didn't, either. He could have, but he figured they would be more confident and less likely to blindly attack him if they had more of their own with them. A few minutes later two more starting following, and they, too, seemed in no hurry to start a fight, so Bucky left them alone as well.

Once Bucky counted six, he stopped walking. After a quick look around, he found a tree that was relatively clear at the base and gently set Tony down to lean up against it. At his sound of distress, Bucky ran a hand through his hair to soothe him, then stood up and cleared his throat.

"I know you're there," he called out, purposely turning to the area where three of his six tails were clustered. "I don't want a fight," he added, when he received no reply. "I just want to talk, I -" He stopped and glanced back at Tony, then closed his eyes.

"I'm here to surrender."

"I will believe that when I see it," snorted one of the Wakandans, stepping out of the jungle with her weapon drawn.

She was immediately followed by her companions, who all stepped out from different directions and surrounded Bucky.

Bucky watched them out of his peripheral vision, but didn't look at them directly, keeping his eyes on the woman who had spoken to him. He did, however, note that his earlier count of six was wrong; there were ten standing in plain sight, and at least three more hidden.

Bucky raised his hands. "I want to speak with your king," he told who he assumed to be the woman in charge, doing his best to keep his voice steady. She looked a little familiar, and he thought she might have been one of the warriors that had found him and Tony on the beach.

"Why? Do you wish to kill him, as well?" she asked, eyes cold and hard.

"No," Bucky said quickly, feeling the first crack in his composure. "I promise, I just want to talk. Please, I - _he_ needs help," he said desperately, pointing at Tony. "And we're running out of time. I won't fight, I'll go back with you willingly, but I need you and your king's word that he'll be taken care of."

The woman frowned, eyes darting to Tony's prone form and then back. "How do I know this isn't some sort of trick?" she asked, eyes narrowed.

Bucky opened his mouth and then shut it, throat clicking, as he tried to think of something - anything - that would convince her otherwise.

"Please," he started, but was cut off by someone saying, "Okoye, this man is not faking."

Bucky jerked and swiveled his head towards Tony, hot panic jolting through his system at the sight of the warrior crouched down beside Tony. " _Don't_ ," he said sharply, and made an aborted move in her direction only to freeze at her withering glare.

"You wanted help, I am helping him," she snapped harshly, before turning back to the woman in charge - Okoye, she had called her - and saying, "His fever is very high, and his breathing is… weak. If left alone, he will die."

Bucky flinched at the word 'die', eyes darting to Tony's face. When he looked back over at Okoye she was watching him, expression hard but less cold.

A second of silence. Then:

"You will give us your weapons, and you will not fight us," she told him, making a quick motion that spurred the others to close rank.

Bucky nodded and starting removing the knives he had left, eyes on the warrior who was still looking over Tony.

"I make no promises, murderer," Okoye added, once Bucky had handed over his last knife. "The decision is in King T'Challa's hands, not mine."

Bucky swallowed and nodded, and bent down to pick up Tony.

The warrior that had been helping him gave him a guarded look, then said, "I can-"

"No," Bucky said softly, and scooped Tony up. "I'll do it."

* * *

The walk back to the palace was nearly twice as grueling as the run away from it, even with the Wakandans taking him through a presumably easier path through the jungle.

Bucky kept a brisk pace, however, spurred on by Tony's labored breaths against his neck and the heat he could feel through both their clothes.

Just as the palace became visible, they were stopped by a host of castle guards. At the head was a tall, imposing figure wearing dark armor, and a menacing mask that bore no small resemblance to the many panther statues in the castle.

Okoye stepped forward and exchanged several words with the figure in Wakandan, gesturing to Bucky and then Tony, then the jungle. Once they were finished, the man in the dark armor turned to Bucky, and removed his mask.

The King of Wakanda's eyes were cold, and held not a hint of mercy when they met Bucky's.

"Who are you?" he demanded, voice sharp and commanding. "I want to know the name of the man who murdered my father."

Bucky swallowed and started to raise his chin, then thought better of it, and lowered his head instead.

"My name James Buchanan Barnes," he said shakily. "This is Anthony Stark. We're - we're from the Kingdom of Aavenge."

The king's eyes narrowed. "You're Avengers?" he asked, tone disbelieving.

Bucky nodded, grip tightening around Tony when he saw the king's expression darken further. "Yes, but I - what happened to your father had nothing to do with the kingdom," he assured quickly, raising his voice without realizing it.

Tony made a distressed sound and stirred, tucking his face against Bucky's neck and drawing the king's attention. His breathing was getting worse, and the shivers had returned, and if he didn't get help soon -

"Please," Bucky begged, throwing all decorum out the window and raising his head to look the king in the eye. "Please, help him. He needs a doctor, and I - _please,_ I will give you anything -"

"The only thing I want is your life," the king said sharply, mouth twisted in fury.

"Than take it," Bucky said, throat clicking. "Kill me, or do whatever you want to me, but please -" He hefted Tony a little higher. "Please, help him."

The king's gaze flicked back down to Tony, but his expression remained impassive.

"You took someone very important from me," he said coolly. There was a slight stirring from the guards around them, but nobody said anything. "What makes you think I will not do the same to you?"

Bucky pulled in a shaky breath and adjusted Tony again. "Because you're not a monster," he whispered, voice trembling.

The king twitched in surprise, then stilled, as though waiting for Bucky to go on.

"I know what I am," Bucky continued, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. "I know what I've done, and what that makes me. Which is also how I know you're better than me." He stopped and looked down at Tony, who was gasping softly, face contorted in pain.

Bucky closed his eyes.

"I killed your father," he croaked, opening his eyes and forcing himself to meet the king's eye. "But please, Tony didn't have anything to do with that. Punish me, do whatever you want to me, but please - don't punish an innocent man for something _I_ did."

The king stared at him, expression hard.

A hushed silence fell, leaving nothing but the sounds of the jungle and rushing of the river nearby.

Then Tony gave pained whimper, and the king's steely face cracked.

"Run ahead and tell the doctors to prepare for our arrival," he ordered one of his people, before closing the gap between himself and Bucky and holding out his arms. "Give him here."

Bucky turned away slightly, and pulled Tony more tightly against him. "I can carry him," he protested, heart pounding at the thought of giving Tony up now.

"You will give him to me, so I may see that he has proper care, or I shall forcibly _take_ him from you and have you executed on the spot," the king hissed, eyes glittering dangerously.

Bucky stiffened, the Soldier in him snarling at the threat and chafing at the thought of giving Tony up, but Bucky forced him down.

They could not fight with so many around, and the more they dawdled, the longer Tony suffered.

Though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, Bucky gently placed Tony in King T'Challa's arms.

Immediately, four guards rushed forward and secured Bucky's arms, but Bucky barely noticed them, eyes locked on Tony's face.

* * *

Feeling like a puppet with his strings cut, Bucky allowed himself to be docilely led back into the palace - right up until they started leading him away from Tony.

"Wait!" he cried, digging his heels in when his guards tried to forcibly move him anyway.

T'Challa froze, then turned around and glared. "If you fight, the Dora Milaje will kill you," he said lowly, nodding towards Bucky's guards. "If you do not follow orders, the Dora Milaje will kill you. If speak, breathe, or move in a way they do not like, the Dora Milaje will kill you." He narrowed his eyes, looking no less dangerous with the sick man in his arms. "Do I make myself clear?"

Bucky looked at Tony, then the doctors hovering around T'Challa. "Yes," he said thickly, watching the rise and fall of Tony's chest.

T'Challa gave a decisive nod, then turned to one of the - Dora Milaje? - and said, "Put him somewhere secure, and guard him well. Once I have seen to our guest's needs," He glanced down at Tony. "I will be down to question him."

The Dora Milaje gave their assent and then pulled Bucky back, giving T'Challa and the doctors room to brush by. Once they were out of sight, they began marching Bucky in the opposite direction.

After a few minutes of walking, Bucky found his voice again. "Is he really going to take care of Tony?" he asked the guard on his left.

She bristled. "If the king gives his word, than it will be done," she sniffed, directing Bucky to walk down some stairs.

Bucky heard his throat click. "And if Tony doesn't get better?" he asked, voice thick.

The first Dora Milaje faltered, but the one on his right - whom Bucky recognized as the one who had been looking Tony over in the jungle - tapped his arm, and gave him a reassuring look that was almost a smile.

"Our doctors are some of the best in the entire world," she said calmly. "If your Tony can be cured, then it will be here, under their care."

Bucky sucked in a quick breath, embarrassed when it came out a sob. "Thank God," he whispered softly, and very nearly collapsed with how weak his knees felt.

* * *

T'Challa came down to Bucky's new prison about an hour after he'd settled in, and very nearly gave Bucky a heart attack with his grave expression.

"Tony?" Bucky asked desperately, terror eating a pit in his stomach.

T'Challa pursed his lips. "The doctors believe it is an infection of the lungs," he said tiredly, and slowly shook his head. "His fever is very high, and they are working to bring it down, and to alleviate some of his pain."

Bucky trembled, hard, and wrapped his hands around the bars of his cell. "But will he be okay?" he asked, his voice coming out more than a little strangled.

T'Challa's mouth thinned unhappily. "Time will tell," he sighed, before frowning. "You said his name is Stark..." he said slowly, face calculating.

Bucky leaned his forehead against the bars, fighting the prickle of tears he could feel building.

"Lord Anthony Stark," he croaked, closing his eyes. "Heir of Stark House, and currently third - or second - in line for the throne of Aavenge."

T'Challa startled, eyes widening and mouth dropping open in shock. "Second in - _Bast_ , what on Earth is he doing with you?!"

Bucky choked on wet laugh. "I've been askin' myself the same thing," he chuckled, before swiping at his eyes and trying to compose himself. "Do you - do you think you could send word to Aavenge that he's here?" he asked, clearing his throat. "His family doesn't know where he is, an' they're probably worryin' themselves sick."

T'Challa tilted his head, eyes narrowed. "And how did he end up in such a predicament?" he asked, a hint of accusation in his tone.

Bucky sat down, and stared at the far wall. "He was kidnapped."

"By you?"

"No," Bucky sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. "It's… a long story. But please, there are a lot of people worrying about him. If you could just let them know…"

T'Challa regarded Bucky coolly. "And you?" he asked, almost nonchalant. "What do I tell them of you?"

Bucky looked up at him, then brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them.

"If you truly don't plan for me to leave this place alive, then nothing," he said calmly.

Bucky wasn't going to be the cause of a war between the two countries, and if Stevie knew he was here, and why, he knew that's what would happen. Because Fury and the court might be willing to give Bucky away in order to keep the peace, but Steve wouldn't, and Bucky…

There had been enough bloodshed over Bucky.

T'Challa let out a frustrated growl, and stepped forward, until he was right against the bars of Bucky's prison. "Who are you?" he demanded, voice tight. "You, who claims to be my father's killer. Who are you, and why do you wear a murderer's face?"

Bucky set his feet back on the ground. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said slowly, confused. "I told you -"

"I looked into the eyes of my father's killer, on that night," T'Challa said sharply, wrapping his hand around one of metal bars, which started creaking. "I remember them, clear as day, cold and ruthless. I have thought of them often, and how I would one day get my revenge." He then pointed at Bucky, tone notably calmer as he said, "The man whose eyes I look into now is not he."

Bucky blinked, taken aback, then turned away. "I don't know what to tell you," he said, voice shaking.

T'Challa gave another growl of frustration. "How about why?" he suggested, letting go of the bars so he could pace in front of them. "Why did you murder my father?"

Bucky clenched his fists. "I was ordered to," he said softly, staring at the ground. "I don't know why."

T'Challa rounded on him sharply. "And me?" he demanded, crossing his arms. "Why did you leave me alive?"

Bucky swallowed, and closed his eyes. "I wasn't ordered to kill you," he mumbled.

T'Challa made a dissatisfied sound, but before he could continue the door banged open, admitting two Dora Milaje and one of the people Bucky had seen following T'Challa when he'd taken Tony.

"What is it?" T'Challa snapped without turning.

The one Bucky thought was a doctor glanced quickly at Bucky, then stepped forward.

"Our guest -"

"Lord Stark," T'Challa corrected, face smoothing over, as he turned slightly.

The doctor nodded. "Lord Stark," he amended. "He, ah, woke up, just now, but he's in a lot of distress. Ordinarily, we would sedate him -"

Bucky heard himself make a wounded noise.

"- but with his breathing as it is, it might do more harm than good. The others are trying to calm him, but…"

"But?" T'Challa prompted, frowning.

The man hesitated, then glanced over at Bucky. "He - is asking for the prisoner, your majesty."

T'Challa mulled that over. "I see," he said, and looked over at Bucky as well. After a few seconds of silence, he nodded. "Bring him," he ordered the Dora Milaje, before turning to face Bucky fully. "I don't have to tell you what will happen if you are difficult in any way, do I?"

Bucky shook his head rapidly, throat tight.

T'Challa gave a decisive nod. "Then we will finish out interrogation later," he said, eyes hard. "And remember, I am doing this for your companion, not you."

* * *

Bucky could hear Tony crying out before they opened the door, and very nearly lurched from his guards' hold. He restrained himself at the last second, remembering T'Challa's warning, and turned pleading eyes on T'Challa instead.

T'Challa stared back, face impassive, then glanced at Bucky's guards. "Remove the bonds on his wrists," he ordered.

Though they seemed surprised, the guards did as they were told, watching Bucky mistrustfully all the while.

"Thank you," Bucky said weakly.

"Our guest not does need to be distressed any more than he already his," T'Challa replied shortly, opening the door and motioning for Bucky to go first.

Tony was thrashing weakly when they entered, fighting against the two doctors who were holding him down against the bed and ignoring their attempts to calm him verbally.

"Tony," Bucky breathed in relief, pushing one of the doctors out of the way so he could sit at the edge of the bed. "Tony, doll, shhh, you need to calm down."

He set his left hand on Tony's forehead, hoping Tony would recognize the cool metal, and brushed away the sweaty locks of his hair.

Tony stopped struggling, eyes fluttering as he attempted to focus. "B...Bucky?" he gasped foggily, turning his head a fraction in Bucky's direction.

"Shhh, sweetheart, I'm right here," Bucky soothed, taking Tony's hand in both of his and kissing the back of it.

Tony instantly relaxed, eyes drooping as he grasped weakly at Bucky's metal hand.

"Lie… that…" he slurred, giving Bucky a sleepy smile. "Swee'… art. 'Oo ne'er… call me tha'... 'fore."

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat, and squeezed Tony's hand a little tighter. "I'll call you whatever you want, doll, just so long as you promise to get better," he vowed, reaching up and sliding his right hand into Tony's hair.

"'M'kay," Tony hummed, leaning into Bucky's touch even as he drifted off. "Lie tha'."

Bucky choked on a laugh and brushed his lips against Tony's hand again. "Then I'll keep doin' it," he promised as Tony's breathing started to even out.

The room grew quiet, save for Tony's breathing and the doctors' bustling about, until Bucky broke the silence by asking, "Can I stay with him?"

T'Challa cleared his throat and stepped closer to the bed, hands behind his back.

"Under guard," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

He glanced down from Tony's face to his and Bucky's clasped hands, then back again.

"You love him," he noted, without any particular inflection.

"More than anything," Bucky croaked, wrapping his hand around Tony's wrist so he could feel his pulse.

T'Challa fell into silence again. Then he walked over and picked up one of the chairs against the wall, and moved it closer to the bed.

"You said the story of how he came to be here was a long one," he said as he sat down, watching Tony with the same rapt attention that Bucky was. "I think now would be a good time to hear it."


	14. Chapter 14

Tony slept fitfully all night, and well into the next day. He woke several times, panicked and muddled, but calmed down after a few soothing words from Bucky, and drifted back off.

"He still has a fever," Bucky said worriedly, when night began falling on the second day.

"Yes, but it's not as high as it was," said the doctor, smiling tiredly. He listened to Tony's breathing, placing one end of a tubular device against Tony's chest and the other into his ears, then moved on to preparing another dose of Tony's medicine.

Bucky brushed his thumb over the patches of red on Tony's still-too-warm cheeks. "So he _is_ getting better?" he asked, squeezing down on Tony's hand when he stirred.

"Of course he will," said T'Challa - surprising Bucky, who hadn't heard him come in. "I can tell: he's strong, this one."

Tony took a deep breath, and maybe it was Bucky's imagination, but it sounded stronger than his last.

"Yes," Bucky breathed. "Yeah, he is."

* * *

Bucky didn't leave Tony's side for the next three days.

A few times a day, a tray of food would appear for him. Bucky didn't feel like eating, so he barely touched it, until somebody took note and told T'Challa, who ordered him to. Bucky didn't sleep much, either, too afraid Tony might wake up or stop breathing again while he was unconscious. When T'Challa found out, he tried to order him to do that, too, and when that didn't work, had something put in his food. It didn't work - Bucky's body wasn't susceptible to most drugs, anymore, which was why he'd still eaten the soup when he'd tasted the sedative - but even Bucky, in all his gloom and worry, could admit the nonplussed looks on the Wakandans' faces when he didn't drop off was amusing.

Tony certainly would have thought so, anyway.

T'Challa visited every day, sometimes even two or three times a day. At first Bucky had thought it was to keep an eye on him, but more often than not he watched Tony, not Bucky, and often in silence - which was probably what puzzled Bucky the most. He kept expecting T'Challa to continue the promised interrogation, and instead, silence.

Then, when he did start asking questions, they were usually about Tony: What was he like? What did he like? What foods did he enjoy?

Bucky answered the best that he could, surprising himself with just how much he knew. He started welcoming the distraction, even, because it meant he could still think about Tony without directly worrying about him.

"He was actually kinda excited, when he found out we were here," Bucky found himself saying on the second afternoon of his vigil. He smiled to himself, remembering the way Tony had perked up despite their situation, and set his hand on Tony's leg over the blanket. "Lookin' around, I kinda see why; he's smart, really smart, leagues ahead of everyone else I know, and bein' in a place like this, with the technology that you have, would probably make him feel like a child in a candy stall."

"I will have to give him a tour, when he awakens," T'Challa said, and while Bucky couldn't be sure, he thought he might have seen one corner of T'Challa's mouth tick up a fraction.

Over time, Bucky noticed his guard becoming less heavy. He thought it might have been an issue of space - between Bucky, the doctors, the Dora Milaje, and T'Challa, the room could get quite crowded - and then decided that T'Challa had simply come to the conclusion that Bucky wasn't going to go anywhere while Tony was bedridden.

On the third day, two servants appeared with a stack of clothes, and an order from T'Challa to take a bath.

"I will watch over him while you are gone," the king said a little while later, when he entered the room and found that Bucky hadn't budged. "Clean yourself; he will not wish to see you like this when he opens his eyes, and I doubt the smell is helping his respiratory system."

Bucky still hadn't wanted to move, but conceded when T'Challa had gotten that dangerous look in his eye again, no doubt with a threat that involved having Bucky stripped and forcibly washed on the tip of his tongue.

When he came back, he found T'Challa reading aloud from a book, voice softer and calmer than Bucky had ever heard from him before. He paused when he noticed Bucky, but didn't look up, and continued again a moment later.

"A dragon story?" Bucky said hoarsely, once T'Challa had finished.

T'Challa closed his book and turned to face Bucky fully. "You said he liked them," he said. "So I thought, perhaps, that he might enjoy this one."

Swallowing thickly, Bucky looked over at Tony, and noticed, for the first time, that he was smiling in his sleep.

"Yeah," he said, collapsing in his usual seat, chest warm. "I think he did."

* * *

That night, after nearly four days of sitting at Tony's bedside, Bucky noticed that Tony's flush was missing.

He laid his flesh hand on Tony's forehead, heart skipping when he didn't feel the tell-tale burn of fever, and called one of the doctors, who checked as well, smiling widely as he confirmed Bucky's suspicion:

Tony's fever had broken.

* * *

Bucky woke up later with his head pillowed on his arms, and to the sensation of someone playing with his hair. He hummed, enjoying the feeling, and started to drift off again, the tingling in his scalp drifting down his spine and relaxing his muscles.

Then he remembered where he was - guarding Tony's sickbed, desperately hoping and waiting for him to wake up - and jerked his head up.

Tony smiled groggily at him.

"Your hair is soft," he mumbled tiredly, hand hovering between them.

Bucky blinked in shock, mouth falling open. Then he let out a sob and wrapped Tony up in a hug, nearly shaking apart while Tony weakly patted his back, and did his best to return it.

* * *

"I feel like you're cheating," Tony said with a frown, gaze darting from his hand to the pile of cards in the middle of the bed.

"A king does not cheat, Lord Anthony," T'Challa said gravely, drawing a card and adding it to his hand.

"But he does count cards," Tony noted, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

T'Challa's eyes sparkled with mischief. "As does a clever lord," he said archly, laying down his (winning) cards.

Bucky scowled and dropped his hand. "I knew it!" he cried, pointing an accusing finger at Tony. "I knew there was no way anybody could possibly be that good!"

Tony sniffed indignantly. "Do you see?" he told T'Challa mournfully, a hand to his chest. "Do you see the slander and disrespect I must put up with?"

T'Challa patted his knee in sympathy. "He is just upset because we have won three apples, four sweets, and his first two children," he said dolefully, mouth twitched when he looked at Bucky.

Bucky gave the pair of them the stink eye. "For starters, it's only _two_ apples," he said, scooping up the cards. "And second of all, I'm upset because I was _cheated_ out of them. _And_ out of all of those games we played before!"

Tony threw a hand over his eyes and sighed dramatically. "You wound me," he said, grinning and peeking at Bucky around his fingers. "Is that any way to speak to an invalid?"

Bucky stopped shuffling cards, and raised an eyebrow. "Invalid, now, are you?" he asked, before reaching down and pinching Tony's foot, which he'd had resting on Bucky's thigh.

Tony squeaked and yanked his foot back, curling up and retreating up against the headboard, where Bucky couldn't reach him. "Abuse!"

"I'm afraid I must agree with James," T'Challa said, grinning, while Bucky nearly fell off the bed laughing. "You move very quickly for an invalid, Tony."

Tony gave them both dirty looks. "Recovering invalid, then," he sniffed, inching back to his previous spot while glaring suspiciously at Bucky. "You should still be nicer to me."

Bucky and T'Challa exchanged glances. It had been four weeks since the day Tony had woken up lucid and without fever, and though he was making jokes about it now, he really _was_ still in recovery. It was easy to forget, now, with him up and acting as lively as he was, but up until two weeks ago, he'd still been bedridden. This week had marked the first day he'd been able to walk around and explore the palace without losing his breath, and Bucky knew the doctors were still giving him pain medicine for his chest.

Bucky himself kept waking up from nightmares where Tony had stopped breathing, and fell asleep counting Tony's breaths instead of sheep, so the reminder of how close Tony had been to death's door wasn't so easy for him to shake off.

"We'll try," Bucky said after clearing his throat, keeping his tone lighter than he felt.

Tony frowned, picking up on the sudden drop in mood anyway, and rested his chin in his hands. "Hey, it was a joke, I was joking, what's with all the gloomy faces?" he grumbled, looking from Bucky to T'Challa, who'd become notably more somber as well. "Ugh, fine, no more cards. I'm tired of losing to T'Challa, anyway." He side-eyed T'Challa, earning a smile from the king, and then poked Bucky's leg. "Want to go for a walk?"

Bucky set down the cards he'd been shuffling. "I suppose…" he said slowly, looking over at T'Challa for permission. While one wouldn't have been able to tell from the free reign he'd been given, Bucky was, technically, still a prisoner. T'Challa had implied the palace was free for Tony to roam, and Bucky usually accompanied him, but almost always with a guard, or T'Challa himself in attendance.

"I'm afraid I have some things to attend to," T'Challa said, standing and stretching his arms. "So I won't be able to join you. But I believe both Ayo and Aneka are free to accompany you, if you wish."

Tony shrugged. "If they want. I think I've finally gotten to where I can navigate this place without getting lost," he said, sliding off the bed and shooting Bucky a sheepish grin over his shoulder. "Mostly I just wanted to walk to the library, anyway."

While he'd been stuck in bed, T'Challa had brought Tony several books from his expansive collection, which Tony had practically devoured, much to T'Challa's delight. As a result, T'Challa's library had become one of Tony's favorite places in the palace, and one of the first ones he'd visited once the doctors had given him leave to do so.

Bucky huffed and crossed his arms. "Oh, I see how it is," he grumbled in faux irritation. "You want me to climb and get the books you want, and carry them for you."

Tony beamed. "Yep," he said cheerfully, bending down to put his shoes on.

T'Challa chuckled. "That reminds me - there's an engineering book I wanted to show you, Tony. It isn't in English, so I'll have to translate it for you, but I thought it might interest you. Perhaps after lunch…?"

Another thing T'Challa had taken delight in: Tony's enthusiasm for Wakandan technology. He could sit for hours going over some of the intricacies of his country's inventions with Tony, explaining details and theories that made no sense to Bucky, but excited Tony to no end. Bucky, too, enjoyed watching them talk about it - not because the subject itself did anything for him, but because seeing Tony's face light up when he spoke about something he loved never failed to make him smile.

Like now.

"I look forward to it," Tony said, eyes shining with excitement. Then he caught sight of the no-doubt dopey smile on Bucky's face, and raised his eyebrows at him. "What?"

"Nothin'," Bucky replied, ducking his head so Tony wouldn't see his smile widening. "Just… engineering."

* * *

Tony ended up spending most of that afternoon with T'Challa, after their lively discussion somehow became a practical demonstration that involved Tony attempting to cannibalize a prototype engine model T'Challa had presented to him.

Tony was still talking about it early the next morning, mouth moving a mile a minute while he yanked on his clothes and Bucky lazed in bed.

"Are you sure T'Challa is okay with you just… taking it apart like that?" Bucky asked, looking politely up at the ceiling while Tony changed his trousers.

"Yes, of course! I mean, he didn't seem angry. He spoke for a long time with the other engineers when they came down to see what we were doing, but it didn't sound like angry Wakandan. I think." Tony stopped and frowned to himself, then shrugged and moved to put on his shoes. "Anyway, he said I could come down early and work on it again today, so it has to be okay."

Bucky huffed, and moved to get out of bed now that Tony was decent.

"Just so long as everyone is happy and nobody is throwing you out for taking apart their one-of-a-kind engines," he said as he stretched.

Tony stopped and stared at him for a second, eyes wide, then coughed and turned away. "You… could always come with me," he suggested, his tone almost… hopeful?

"I doubt T'Challa wants me there," Bucky replied, dropping his arms and glancing sideways at him.

"He wouldn't mind," Tony said quickly, turning back around. Bucky noticed his cheeks were flushed, and felt his own face drain of blood.

Quick as a flash, Bucky crossed the room and laid a hand on Tony's forehead, breathing a sigh of relief when he encountered cool skin.

Tony squawked indignantly and batted his hand away. "What's the matter with you?" he grumbled, face even redder than before. "Don't _rush_ a man like that, jeez…"

Bucky frowned. "You're all flushed, I thought you had another fever," he said, feeling awkward.

Tony sniffed and rubbed at his face, turning away again so Bucky couldn't see it. "Of course I'm flushed, I'm excited. About the engine, I mean. Well, duh, of course about the engine, what else would I be - did you say you were coming? No? Because I changed my mind, you'll be bored, you probably wouldn't like it, I'm just going to-"

"I'll watch you work, for a little while," Bucky said, trying not to smile at Tony's nervous babble. It was cute, and the fact that he was doing it betrayed how much he really wanted Bucky there, even if Bucky didn't understand why.

Tony turned his head and blinked at him. "Oh," he said, before coughing and rubbing at his mouth. "Oh, okay, uh…"

Bucky grinned, and pulled at his shirt. "Just let me change first, and then I can…"

Tony swallowed, and then tilted his head towards the door. "I'll see meet you in the hall," he said quickly, before all but bolting from the room.

* * *

Bucky lasted a few hours before he dozed off. He woke up when a loud, metallic clang startled him awake.

Tony looked over at him and grinned sheepishly at him. "Sorry," he said, picking up the part he had dropped.

Bucky yawned and looked around, surprised when all he saw was Tony and two of T'Challa engineers, but no sign of T'Challa himself.

"T'Challa left an hour ago," Tony said, as if reading Bucky's mind. "He said something about having things to take care of. Oh, and he said he wanted to speak to you today, when he got the chance."

Bucky paused, his stomach flipping over. "Oh?"

"Uh-huh," Tony said, scowling when one of the engineers started arguing with him about something. "He said he'd wait 'til after we'd eaten, but you slept through lunch and I told him not to wake you - Yes, I know what I'm doing, this will be more efficient!"

Bucky cleared his throat, his jaw working with sudden tension. "Uh, I'm going to go for a walk, then. Wake myself up, and see if I can find him," he said, inching towards the door.

Tony didn't acknowledge him, too busy arguing his point to the engineer, so Bucky looked over at Okoye, who was watching with her arms crossed, and looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

"I'll make sure they don't kill him," she promised wryly, mouth twitching.

Bucky tried to smile at her, failed, and gave her a two-fingered salute instead.

* * *

After wandering around for over an hour, Bucky went back down to the workroom, only to find it empty, save for one of the engineers Tony had been working with.

"If you're looking for Lord Anthony, you just missed him. He left with King T'Challa about fifteen minutes ago," he said, cocking his head and frowning at the machine in front of him.

Bucky thanked him and ventured back upstairs, wondering how he could have missed T'Challa on the way over here, and where he and Tony could have gone. The library, maybe?

"Perhaps they're having dinner," Ayo, the Dora Milaje that had been tailing him, suggested when he asked her. "It's about that time, and Lord Anthony skipped lunch."

Bucky's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd slept through lunch, too. "Good idea."

When he got to the dining room, however, it was empty. There was still food on the table, and a place for him to eat, but no sign of either T'Challa or Tony. Bucky frowned.

"If you're looking for Tony, he decided to take a plate up to his room and wait for you there," T'Challa's voice called from the balcony.

Bucky stiffened, then swallowed and turned towards the voice. "Tony said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Indeed. Eat first, however. I gather you're probably hungry."

Bucky swallowed and nodded, even though he wasn't sure if T'Challa could see him or not.

He ate mechanically, no longer really hungry, and noticed that Ayo was gone. In fact, now that he was paying attention, he noticed there wasn't anybody else in the room, save himself and T'Challa.

Throat dry, Bucky struggled to swallow down his next bite, then abandoned what was left of his food to join T'Challa on the balcony.

T'Challa turned his head towards Bucky and gave him a thin smile. "You look as though you're about to face your executioner," he observed, raising his eyebrows.

Bucky cleared his throat. "Am I?"

T'Challa frowned, brow furrowing, before his face smoothed out and he turned to look out into the jungle. "Tony told me, about you," he said calmly, instead of answering Bucky's question. "About the disease that is HYDRA. About their Winter Soldiers." He paused, then glanced briefly at Bucky, and away. "And about _the_ hydra," he added, voice oddly soft.

Bucky felt himself tense.

"Do not be angry with him," T'Challa continued, holding a hand up for silence. "He did not wish to betray your trust, I can tell, but it was early in his recovery, when the pain medication made his tongue loose. He... wanted to protect you, I think, in case he took a bad turn." He stopped, then, as if he were struggling to find words, and then turned to face Bucky fully, shocking Bucky with the amount of sorrow in his expression. "I am sorry," he said, bowing his head. "I have done you a great wrong."

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt heavy, and it took several tries before he could get any words past his lips. "What?"

"I have let you suffer, these many weeks, letting you believe I was still holding you responsible for a crime that was not your fault," T'Challa said, eyes mournful. "Something for which I hope, in time, you'll be able to forgive me."

"For - forgive…?!" Bucky choked, before shaking his head and holding out his hand. "Your Majesty, there's nothing _to_ forgive. How… how can you even say that, after, after everything I've-"

T'Challa stopped him by shaking his head. "No," he said, eyes hard. "This is where I have wronged you. You, my friend, are the one that has nothing to forgive," he said, gently but firmly.

Bucky gaped at him. "I _murdered your father_ ," he protested, voice cracking on the word 'father'.

T'Challa's face went stormy. "On the day you surrendered yourself, I told you I looked into the eyes of my father's killer the night he died," he said, mouth turned down at the corners. "If you recall, I also told you that, when I looked into your eyes, I did not see that man." He took a deep breath, then looked directly into Bucky's eyes and said, "That is because you, James Barnes, are not the man who killed my father. It may have been your body, and your face, but it was not you."

Bucky stared at T'Challa with wide eyes, stunned.

T'Challa gave him a sad smile. "But, since you don't seem to see that for yourself, I will say this…" He reached and placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I forgive you."

Bucky felt as if his lungs had run out of air. "Y-you, you shouldn't," Bucky choked. "I -"

"Was a victim, same as my father," T'Challa said firmly. "A prisoner in his own body, made to do terrible things in the name of your abusers." His mouth thinned, sad eyes filling with fury that wasn't directed at Bucky, and placed his free hand on Bucky's other shoulder as well. "In my opinion, there is truly nothing to forgive. But I feel as though you need to hear it, so you can begin forgiving yourself, if nothing else."

He gave both of Bucky's shoulders one more squeeze, and then let go. "I forgive you, James Barnes," he said, voice firm and eyes warm. "You are forgiven."

For a long time, Bucky couldn't say anything, throat too tight for words. Then:

"Thank you," Bucky said hoarsely, blinking back the embarrassing sting of tears.

T'Challa smiled, then returned his gaze to the jungle, hands resting comfortably behind his back.

Bucky followed his example, surreptitiously scrubbing at his face while T'Challa politely pretended not to notice.

They stood their for several minutes, drinking in the view, before T'Challa said, apropos nothing, "Tony tells me he is to be wed soon."

Bucky felt himself tense all over again. "That's right," he said neutrally, after a few seconds' pause.

T'Challa glanced sideways at him. "And yet, he's very clearly in love with you," he said calmly - casually, even, as though he was remarking upon the weather, or what he had eaten for breakfast.

Bucky looked him incredulously. "What?"

T'Challa chuckled softly. "It is not a secret, my friend," he said lightly. "You, yourself, know it as well, even if you refuse to acknowledge it."

Bucky hunched his shoulders and glared determinedly at his feet. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said tonelessly, heart pounding in his ears.

T'Challa scoffed. "Don't you?" he asked cryptically, raising his eyebrows when Bucky jerked his head up.

"No, I _don't_ ," Bucky said sharply, gritting his teeth. "Tony-"

"Adores you," T'Challa said firmly. "Just as much, if not more, as you do him. It is obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together, and if you do not see it, then you are either blind, or willfully choosing to do so."

Bucky shook his head resolutely, stomach twisting. Because he wasn't blind - he _had_ seen it. In the private smiles Tony shared with him, the long looks and revealing conversations, the affectionate touches that had gone both ways...

He'd had an inkling, ever since the hot spring. He'd been stubbornly ignoring it, telling himself he was reading all the wrong signs, but - even T'Challa, who barely knew them, could see it.

And yet:

"Doesn't matter," Bucky said hoarsely, still shaking his head. "It doesn't matter, because we can't - he's getting _married_ ," Bucky stressed, squaring his jaw. "To my best friend, no less."

"A man he does not love, and for political reasons, no less," T'Challa cut in. "You forget, arranged marriages in the aristocracy are the norm, not the exception. You would not be the first paramours that had to work around the arrangement."

Bucky laughed humorlessly. "How?" he asked bitterly. "I can only imagine. 'Hey, Steve, I'm in love with your husband - you don't care if I take him for a romantic walk and maybe spend the night, do you?'"

And the worst part was, Steve - the self-sacrificing idiot that he was - would probably let them, even if it hurt him to do so.

"It is not uncommon for royalty to take lovers out of wedlock," T'Challa remarked calmly. "Mistresses, or…"

But Bucky was already shaking his head. "I won't - can't - do that to Steve," he said, scrubbing at his face roughly. He remembered Tony telling him the story of Steve proposing to him in his workshop, how fond he'd looked. "And Tony wouldn't want to, either."

T'Challa sighed deeply, and looked out into the jungle again. "Tony is an honorable man," he said quietly, before giving Bucky a small smile. "As are you, James Barnes." He paused, then sighed again, the smile slipping from his face.

"Those of us who are in positions of power... we make great sacrifices," he said solemnly. "Often at the expense of the things we hold dear. The fact that you are both willing to make this sacrifice - for your people, and your friend - shows great strength and loyalty."

He pierced Bucky with a look that was solemn and sorrowful at the same time. "However, I think you would be doing yourselves a great disservice, if you did not at least acknowledge what you both know in your hearts."

Bucky looked away, laughing wetly. "Even if it makes everything hurt more in the end?"

T'Challa smiled sadly. "Sometimes wounds need to hurt so they may heal, my friend," he said gently, reaching up and clasping Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I think I'd rather avoid the wound entirely," he said quietly, opening his eyes and staring at the sky.

T'Challa chuckled. "An option we don't always have, I'm afraid," he sighed.

Bucky huffed and looked away, at the jungle, and then the palace. "I, uh, think I'm going to," he started, motioning back inside and then taking a step in the direction.

"Of course," T'Challa said calmly, before he hesitated and added, "One other thing, before you go. I'd forgotten to mention it earlier."

Bucky stopped and stared at him expectedly, feeling a little nervous. The king had already surprised him twice today, and he wasn't sure he was ready for any more.

"I received a message from one of the watchtowers by the shore earlier today," T'Challa said, after clearing his throat. "It seems a ship flying under the Aavenge flag was spotted at sea."

Bucky's eyes widened. " _Today_?" he blurted in shock. "H-how - how long before…?"

"A day or two, perhaps more," T'Challa replied. He was watching Bucky carefully, as though gauging his reaction, which made Bucky realize he should probably be more enthusiastic than he was being.

"That's… good news," Bucky said lamely, his stomach in knots - and not in excitement.

They - he and Tony - were finally going to get to go home. Back to Aavenge, back to Sheild, back to Steve, back to everything.

It should have been a good thing - it _was_ a good thing.

So why did the thought fill Bucky with dread?

"Unless, of course, you'd rather remain here," T'Challa said carefully, interrupting Bucky's train of thought.

Bucky blinked in surprise, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I - what?"

T'Challa clasped his hands behind his back. "You need not return to your kingdom, if you truly have no wish to do so," he said quietly. "A few words and a little white lie, and the ship can be turned away. You could remain here, for as long as you need or desire." He smiled faintly. "Unless, of course, you had somewhere else entirely in mind. In any case, your country need not know where you are."

Bucky opened his mouth, then shut it, swallowing hard. "You… you would do that?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"If it is what you - both of you - wish," T'Challa replied, one corner of his mouth ticking up a fraction.

Bucky swallowed and looked around. It wasn't the same as home, but the jungle, the palace - even the river that had almost killed him and Tony - was all amazing, in its own unique way. In his short stay here, Bucky had already begun to see it almost as a second home, and he knew Tony loved it as well, for the technology if nothing else.

"You can, of course, think about it, and talk it over with Tony," T'Challa added, breaking Bucky out of his reverie.

Bucky took a deep breath and nodded, eyes on the panther statue below. Bucky thought it looked unsettling, but it was comforting at the same time, because it looked like the kind of thing Steve would have loved to draw.

Bucky looked up at T'Challa. "I think," he said quietly. "My mind is already made up."


	15. Chapter 15

**AN** : Double-posted again today, so don't forget to read chapter 14 as well.

(Oh, and... please don't kill me. ^^')

* * *

Bucky walked back to Tony's room automatically, so deep in thought that he was genuinely surprised when he found himself already there.

Tony was curled up on the bed with a book in his hand, and looked up at the sound of the door opening. He smiled when he saw it was Bucky, making Bucky's heart beat a little faster and his breath quicken.

"Hey," Tony said quietly, putting his book down and scooting towards the edge of the bed.

"Hey," Bucky returned, closing the door behind him and then leaning against it.

Tony's mouth thinned, expression turning pensive. "T'Challa told you about the ship, I take it?" he asked, chewing the inside of his cheek.

Bucky took a deep breath. "Yeah," he sighed, not bothering to hide his apprehension.

Tony gave him a strained smile and hugged his knees to his chest. "It's a good thing, though," he said, with cheer that sounded forced to Bucky's ears. "We finally get to go home. Well, provided that ship's really coming for us. Knowing our luck, it's been taken over by pirates or something, which I guess probably wouldn't be quite as bad as-"

"T'Challa says we can stay here," Bucky said in a rush, fingers drumming against the wood of the door behind him.

Tony stopped and blinked in surprise. "Sorry?"

Bucky swallowed, eyes meeting Tony's briefly before darting away. "T'Challa, he... offered to let us stay here. If we wanted," Bucky said carefully. He was having trouble looking at Tony directly, afraid if he did, Tony might -

"Why - why would he ask that?"

\- say that. Bucky cringed internally, his throat working as he tried to find something to say. "Dunno," was what he settled on, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "It was something he thought we might want, I guess. I," He looked up, feeling like he was making an apology as met Tony's eyes and said, "I told him no."

Tony frowned, watching Bucky intently, as though he was looking for something. "Of course you did," he said finally in a strange tone. Then he scooted over until he was sitting at the edge of the bed, and patted the space beside him in silent invitation.

Bucky shook his head. "I - can't," he said, and floundered for an excuse. He felt off-kilter, wrong, somehow, and T'Challa's words kept echoing around in his head -

 _"And yet, he's very clearly in love with you."_

"I'm, uh, kinda tired, so I was going to turn in early," he said lamely, and pointed at the door with his thumb.

"You don't have to go," Tony said, sitting up a little straighter when Bucky put a hand on the doorknob. "I'm not really doing anything. I was mostly just waiting for you."

The doorknob creaked under Bucky's grip. "No, it's - I really just want to go to sleep -"

"Which you've done here every night since we've arrived," Tony said, frowning and standing up. "What's wrong? You're acting funny."

"Nothing. I'm not," Bucky replied, immediately noticing how Tony visibly tensed at the words. "It's not - I just, don't think it's a good idea. Now that you're well."

Tony crossed his arms, now looking confused as well as upset. "What are you _talking_ about?"

Bucky gritted his teeth. "Sleeping. In here. With you. In the same bed," he said tersely, pointing at the bed with his chin for emphasis.

Tony huffed out a laugh. Then he seemed to realize Bucky wasn't joking. "You never cared before," he protested, sounding hurt.

"That's different," Bucky said stiffly, glaring at the ground. "You were sick."

"What difference does that make?" Tony demanded, looking mutinous. "I wasn't sick when we were on the Bifrost."

Bucky jerked his head up. "That was -" he started, only to stop when he couldn't think of an excuse. "Never mind. Look, T'Challa gave me a room -"

"Which you've never used."

"Because I've been in here with you -"

"Exactly!" Tony exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "So I don't really see -"

Bucky growled in frustration. "It's just not appropriate, Tony!" he snapped before he could stop himself, instantly wishing he could take it back when Tony flinched and then stilled, face draining of expression.

"And why," Tony said slowly, voice strained and hushed. "Would it not be appropriate?"

Bucky turned away. "You know why," he said miserably, glaring at the spot of floor to Tony's right.

"No, no I don't," Tony ground out, and there was an edge to his tone, just a tiny note of panic Bucky didn't think he would have heard if he hadn't known Tony as well as he did. "Because I've woken up tangled up next to you every morning for the last few weeks, and I don't understand how now, all of a sudden, it's not okay."

Bucky clenched his fists, jaw working as he tried to think of something, anything, to say.

 _Because you're not mine. Because it'll hurt more in the end._

 _Because I love you._

Bucky shook his head. "I can't," he said, voice raw.

Tony hugged himself, eyes sweeping up from Bucky's clenched fists to his face. Whatever he saw there made him suck in a deep breath and close his eyes. When he opened them again, Bucky could see a steely edge of determination there, as well as something else, something that made Bucky's breath catch and his stomach clench.

"Is it because I'm in love with you, or because you feel something for me?" Tony asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky looked away. "Tony…" he warned hoarsely, but Tony only laughed wetly.

"No, you don't get to deflect," he said stormily, angrily wiping at his face. "Not after the pet names and the looks and the smiles and the touching, and -" He stopped and took a deep breath, then shook his head.

"I'm not stupid, Bucky," he said bitterly. "I can read the signs, same as you can. I know you feel _something_ for me, I just don't what, and I - I can't keep wondering." He looked down and swallowed audibly, fists clenched. "You - _you_ kissed _me_ , remember? Back on the Bifrost. Even if you were pissed and drunk at the time-"

"I wasn't pissed at you," Bucky said quickly, in spite of himself. He knew it was probably confirming the point Tony was trying to make, but still, it was important Tony knew that. "I was..." Jealous. "...angry, but not at you, and that wasn't why I… did it. And I wasn't drunk, either," he added tiredly. "I - I can't get drunk, anymore. With the hydra blood."

Tony stayed silent for a second, letting that digest. Then he let out a breath that was almost a laugh.

"So it was real," he murmured, more to himself than to Bucky, it seemed. Then he looked up and squared his jaw, voice uncharacteristically small when he asked, "Do you love me?"

Bucky's heart skipped. "What's it matter?" he said tonelessly. Tony must have still seen something in his face, though, because his eyes widened a fraction. "You're getting married, remember?"

Tony rubbed at his mouth. "To Steve," he said slowly, a spark of unconcealed hope in his eyes. "You know how I feel about him."

Bucky closed his eyes. "Yeah, I do, actually," he said, leaning back against the door warily. When Tony didn't say anything, he opened his eyes. "Do you still think you'll grow to love him?" he heard himself ask, even though he knew the answer would just make everything worse.

Tony sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. "I think I could have," he said softly, before giving Bucky a small, sad smile and adding, "But only if I'd never met you."

Bucky felt something inside him crack.

"What do you want me to say, Tony?" he snapped harshly, pushing away from the door. "That I have feelings for you? That I've been falling for you since the first day we met?" He dug his fingers into his hair, ignoring the sting when several strands got caught in his metal hand, then gestured between them. "It doesn't matter what I say, or how I feel, or even how you feel - you said it yourself, back on the Bifrost: you're still marrying Steve."

"Which has nothing to do with how I feel about you," Tony started, taking a step towards Bucky and freezing when Bucky held up a hand to ward him off. He bit his lip and looked away, hands rubbing against his thighs, then cleared his throat.

"I'm - I'm not asking you to, to marry me, or anything. I can't - I know we can't have a future," he said quietly, voice thick with emotion. "But we can - we do - have right here and right now, and if that's all we can have…" He looked up, hands trembling as he met Bucky's eyes again. "Isn't that better than nothing?" he whispered, eyes bright with hope and, well - fear.

Fear. He was terrified, of being rejected - of _Bucky_ rejecting him, which was an entirely ridiculous concept all by itself.

It made Bucky just want to wrap his arms around him, hold him close and take all the fear away. But -

"Whether you're in love with him or not, you're still Steve's," Bucky hissed, digging his nails into his palms. "And I - I can't…"

Tony's mouth twisted. "I'm not Steve's," he reminded Bucky, tone resigned but firm.

"You know what I meant," Bucky snapped, swiping a hand across his face angrily. "Don't make this about that. I know he doesn't own you, but I, he - he still has a claim on you, Tony, and I…"

He trailed off as Tony shook his head, eyes huge and liquid.

"No," he said quietly, and took a step closer. Bucky watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and then he whispered, in a voice that was firm and soft at the same time, "I meant I'm not Steve's... _yet_."

Bucky shuddered, opened his mouth to protest -

And snapped it shut as the implications of what Tony was trying to say hit him.

Bucky swallowed, hard, and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. "If I stay in here with you tonight, we're gonna end up doing more than sleeping," he said lowly, carefully watching Tony for his reaction.

When Tony's only response was a hard shiver, Bucky closed his eyes and swore softly to himself, digging his nails into his palms to keep from touching.

"Please," Tony said softly, forcing Bucky to open his eyes. "Just, just once, I want…" He reached out, hand hovering over Bucky's chest, but not touching. "Can we be selfish? Just this once?" he asked, eyes pleading. "I - for once in my life, I just want to be me. I don't want to be the Stark heir, or Lord Rogers's fiance, or the future king, I just…" He trailed off, and it was the lost expression on his face that did Bucky in.

"Since I've met you, you've only ever been Tony to me," Bucky whispered. He could feel his resolve crumbling, the will to fight slipping away, so he gave into the urge to touch him, reaching out and gently cupping Tony's cheek.

Tony leaned into it immediately, shoulders sagging, the naked relief and longing in his face damn near tearing Bucky's heart in two.

"Right now, I just want to be yours," he murmured, eyes open and honest.

It was the easiest, most natural thing in the world for Bucky to pull Tony against his chest and wrap his arms around him. "Fuck, Tony," he whispered shakily, burying his face in Tony's neck.

Tony's hands crept up Bucky's back and grabbed hold of Bucky's shirt, clinging as though afraid to let go. "Don't leave," he mumbled into Bucky's chest, voice wobbly.

Bucky lifted his head to bury his face in Tony's hair instead, nuzzling the soft strands and inhaling Tony's scent. "I won't," he promised, rubbing circles into Tony's back.

Tony shuddered, then grunted and gently nudged them over to sit the edge of the bed, somehow managing to do so without ever pulling out of the embrace. "Promise?" he asked hoarsely, pulling his head back enough look Bucky in the eye.

Bucky trembled, hard, and closed his eyes, bending down until his forehead was resting against Tony's.

Tony cupped the back of Bucky's neck as though he could hold him there, squeezing with pressure that felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Then he let out a shuddering breath, and did the one thing Bucky's couldn't say no to:

"Bucky, please," he whispered, voice raw and desperate.

Bucky made a noise between a gasp and a groan, then closed the gap between them and finally pressed their lips together.

The sound Tony made went straight to Bucky's chest, coiling around his heart and then settling in his stomach, warm and brilliant like sunshine, or like Tony himself. Bucky sank into it gratefully, tilting Tony's head back so he could deepen the kiss, and gasping when he felt the first touch of Tony's tongue against his.

Bucky groaned, accepting the invasion and responding in kind, his metal hand dipping down to the small of Tony's back so he pull him closer. Almost of its own accord, his hand slipped up Tony's shirt, sliding up the expanse of warm, smooth skin, digging in and squeezing a little when another swipe of Tony's tongue made Bucky shudder.

Tony whimpered, loud enough that Bucky thought he might have done something wrong and broke the kiss. "Are you…"

Tony whined and dug his fingers into Bucky's neck and shoulder, until Bucky was kissing him again with twice as much fervor as before, and Bucky knew, with absolute certainty, that he was lost.

He was dimly aware of pushing Tony back against the bed, of Tony's hands stroking down his back. Of kissing down Tony's neck while Tony eased his shirt off, and then divesting Tony of his shirt as well. Of Tony's legs wrapping around his waist, and of Tony's wrecked voice in his ear, showering him with praises and encouragement and curses in equal measure.

More than anything, though, he was aware of Tony's heartbeat, thundering away beside his, and how, through it all, Tony never let go of him once.

* * *

Bucky woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, Tony's arm wrapped around his waist, and Tony's soft breathing stirring the hair at the back of his neck. He laid there like that for a few minutes more, reveling in the feeling of it all, before shifting very carefully and turning until he was facing Tony on the pillow.

It was one of the most gorgeous things Bucky had ever seen. Tony's mouth was slightly askew, red and swollen from last night, his long, dark lashes and golden skin emphasized by the white of the pillow. The sight made Bucky's breath hitch and his hands itch to touch, but he contented himself with just looking, and drinking in as much as he could.

 _While you still can_ , a treacherous little voice in the back of his head pointed out, but Bucky ignored it and let his eyes roam lower, where the sheet had fallen and exposed most of Tony's torso.

When he returned his gaze to Tony's face, Tony's eyes were open, and watching him with the same kind of reverence Bucky was sure was on his face as well.

"Good morning," Tony breathed, barely above a whisper, shivering and closing his eyes when Bucky reached up and cupped his cheek.

"Good morning," Bucky returned softly, gently caressing the skin under Tony's eye with his thumb.

Tony's lip trembled. "We can't do this again," he whispered, opening his eyes and letting Bucky see all of the sadness, the despair, and - most of all - the love there.

Bucky's free hand found Tony's, and tangled their fingers together. "I know," he whispered back, and pressed their foreheads together.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Tony murmured softly, once they were dressed and ready to head down for breakfast. He was looking down at his feet, hands held against his middle as though it hurt, and seemed unwilling to step out the door.

Bucky sucked in a shuddering breath and stepped closer to him, framing Tony's face in his hands and gently tilting his head back so Bucky could see his eyes.

They were red-rimmed and watery, but still the most beautiful things Bucky had ever seen.

He bent down and kissed him, intending it to be a simple, chaste brush of lips, but Tony had other ideas; one hand reached up and tangled itself in Bucky's hair while the other tugged insistently at the back of Bucky's neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Bucky let him, tilting his head and letting his eyes slip closed, determined to memorize the taste and feel.

Because this was goodbye, and they both knew it.

When Bucky finally, reluctantly pulled back, Tony made a soft sound of protest, but didn't fight it. Bucky kissed his forehead, then pulled him into a tight embrace, resting his chin atop Tony's head.

He wanted to say it was okay, but couldn't bring himself to lie. Instead, he ran his hand up and down Tony's back, and whispered, "What if you could choose?"

Tony shuddered, then pushed back so he could look Bucky in the eye. "Then I would choose you. Every time, and in any way - I'd always choose you, James Buchanan Barnes."

It should have been a comfort. It wasn't.

"T'Challa was telling me how some royals still end up taking lovers after they marry," Bucky said quietly after a few seconds of silence, even though he felt dirty for even saying it.

Tony's fingers, which had been playing with the hair at the nape of Bucky's neck, stilled.

"We could never do that to Steve," he mumbled, looking guiltily down at Bucky's chest.

Bucky smiled softly. "That's what I told him," he said, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the small of Tony's back. "Besides, I'm not nearly pretty enough to be your mistress, anyway."

Tony laughed wetly. Then he reached up and cupped Bucky's cheek. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met," he said, eyes warm when they met Bucky's. "And you're - you're worth more than that. More than some tawdry affair on the side."

Somehow, after everything else, that was the thing that made Bucky crack.

"Stevie told me you were a hard guy not to love," Bucky choked, leaning into Tony's hand and placing his own over the top of it to hold it there.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly, but didn't say anything.

Bucky gave him a watery smile, then gently pulled Tony's hands off of him and took a step back, still holding both of Tony's hands in his.

"He just didn't tell me it would hurt so much if I tried," he whispered hoarsely, giving Tony's hands one last squeeze.

Then, even though it felt like dying, he let go, and walked towards the door.

Tony didn't stop him.

* * *

 **AN** : For a link to artwork by Massivespacewren that goes with this chapter, check out my profile.


	16. Chapter 16

If T'Challa noticed their guilty expressions at breakfast, he didn't comment on it.

Instead, he inclined his head towards them and said, "Two ships docked at our port this morning. One claims to be the Milano, from the Kingdom of Aavenge."

Tony startled. "Peter Quill's ship?" he asked, hovering over his chair.

T'Challa raised his eyebrows. "That is who the captain claims to be, though he requested my people call him 'Star Lord'," he said, mouth curled up in amusement. "However, it was a blond gentleman and a fierce brunette woman, who said their names were Lord Steven Rogers and Lady Margaret of Stark, who were most insistent upon seeing you both immediately."

" _Peggy_ is here?" Tony hissed, while Bucky's stomach flipped unpleasantly.

It didn't really surprise him that Steve would come to collect them himself - honestly, Bucky would be more surprised if he hadn't - but the thought of facing him now, after everything, after -

"And the other ship?" Bucky asked, more as a way to distract himself than anything.

T'Challa chuckled. "Ah, yes. The Bifrost, of Asgard," he said, steepling his hands under his chin. "I take it you know Prince Thor? He and his compatriots are all threatening to bring the wrath of Asgard down upon us if we have harmed you in any way." He shook his head, still looking as though the whole situation amused him, and added, "Also, his brother, Prince Loki, has somehow managed to sneak his way into the palace. The Dora Milaje are keeping him engaged, but it might be best for everyone if he could see the two of you in person."

Tony gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish, while Bucky had to squelch the inappropriate desire to laugh.

"Er, right," Bucky said finally, when he thought he could speak normally. "When you say 'keeping him engaged'..."

T'Challa shrugged. "We could hardly leave him unsupervised," he said mildly, before nodding to the only Dora Milaje in the room. "I can have them bring him here now, if you would like."

While a small, spiteful part of Bucky wanted to tell T'Challa no, the louder, nobler part of him that sounded suspiciously like Steve won out. "That… would probably be a good idea, yeah."

Tony made a noise that sounded like a choked-off hiccup, and collapsed in the chair he'd been hovering over, face hidden in his hands. "If Loki got in, you know it's only a matter of time before the others find a way," he said, voice muffled by his hands.

At that, T'Challa actually grinned. "They're more than welcome to try," he said wryly.

Bucky looked out toward the balcony, imagined Steve scaling it, and winced.

"Please don't tell them that," Tony told T'Challa, as if reading Bucky's mind. "They'll probably take it as a challenge."

Bucky cleared his throat. "It… might be best if we could arrange to see them soon," he said, because T'Challa looked as though he were actually considering it.

Most of the amusement faded from T'Challa's expression. "Are you certain?" he asked, gaze darting from Bucky to Tony with eyes that were a little too knowing. "I can delay them a day, if you would like. If you think you need more… time."

Bucky swallowed, hard, and chanced a glance at Tony - who was staring out at the balcony, expression distant and hand clenched around his pendant.

"I think sooner would be better," Bucky said, pleased when his voice remained steady.

T'Challa's face softened. "Then I will make it so," he said, and while there wasn't any inflection in his tone, Bucky could still hear the note of sympathy.

* * *

Bucky wasn't really hungry, but at T'Challa's insistence he filled his plate with the spread that was offered. He did little more than nibble on a few pieces of fruit, however, and a quick glance at Tony's plate told him that Tony wasn't faring much better.

They were both eventually saved from pretending to eat more by a commotion in the hall. Bucky leaned out of his chair to see two Dora Milaje walking into the room, both flanking the tall, familiar form of Loki - who was wearing the most ridiculous helmet Bucky had ever seen.

"Are those _horns_?" Bucky blurted before he could think better of it, completely overtaking Tony's happy greeting.

Loki's gaze darted to Bucky. "Tactful as always, Sir Barnes," he sniffed, and while his tone was affronted, Bucky saw a brief flash of relief in his expression before his eyes settled on Tony. "Tony. It's good to see you're alive." He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "Even if you both look positively awful."

"And yet, still better than when they first arrived," T'Challa said mildly as he stood up. He tilted his head towards the Dora Milaje in silent instruction, then motioned to a chair at the end of the table. "Do have a seat, Your Highness. Your brother and his companions will be joining us soon."

Loki nodded stiffly, then made his way around the table, picking a chair closer to Bucky and Tony instead of the one T'Challa had indicated.

"I take it you two are being treated well, since you're up here dining with the king, instead of rotting away in a dungeon, as my brother feared," he said as he sat down, sharp eyes raking over them both. Bucky wasn't sure what he thought he was looking for, but, oddly enough, found he didn't mind the scrutiny.

Tony grinned. "We're fine. T'Challa has been a very gracious host," he said, motioning to his (still full) plate of food, and winking at T'Challa.

"Not as gracious as I could have been," T'Challa acknowledged smoothly, though a corner of his mouth ticked up in a fraction of a smile. His eyes mostly remained on Loki, however, and Bucky belated realized that he was quietly sizing Loki up - and that Loki was doing the same.

Tony must have picked up on it, too, because he caught Bucky's eye for the first time since they'd left his room and raised an eyebrow.

Bucky made a face, and coughed to catch everyone's attention. "Uh, not to sound ungrateful or anything, but what are you doing here?" he asked Loki.

Loki gave a deep, world-weary sigh. "Mounting a rescue, obviously," he said with a wave of his hand. "The frightening, forthright woman - Carter, I think she said -" Tony choked into his cup of water. "- offered to come with me, but I informed her it wasn't necessary, and if I ran into trouble that she could always sneak in while I provided a distraction."

Tony covered his face with his hands, still coughing, and then lowered them to shoot T'Challa an apologetic look.

"The guards will find any stragglers," T'Challa said with a shrug, brow furrowing in concern when Tony's coughing didn't cease. "Do you need-"

"Fine," Tony gasped, waving him off, and then Loki and Bucky as well when they both leaned towards him. "Fine, I'm fine, just completely mortified."

Mollified, Bucky eased back into his seat, but Loki continued to hover. "You don't look well," he said quietly to Tony, expression worried.

Tony scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but T'Challa beat him to it.

"Tony has been recovering from an illness," he said calmly, raising an eyebrow when Tony shot him a look of betrayal.

Loki looked at Bucky over Tony's head, then rounded on Tony when Bucky only grimaced. "I think that might have been something you should have opened with," he said archly. "Are you even well enough for the voyage back to Aavenge?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes," he huffed indignantly, throwing threatening glares at both T'Challa and Bucky, as if daring them to contradict him. "But never mind that, you haven't answered Bucky's question. We know why you're in the palace, but what are you doing _here_ , in Wakanda?"

Loki frowned, but let the subject drop, though he looked very much as though he was going to pick it back up again in the near future.

"We accompanied your friends on their voyage here," he said, absently picking up a piece of fruit and popping it into his mouth. "After you fell overboard, we tried looking for you, and when we couldn't find you Heimdall suggested we sail the rest of the way to Aavenge and let your friends and family at least know what happened to you." He made a face and picked up another piece of fruit, but turned it around in his hand instead of eating it. "After a brief misunderstanding that may or may not have included kidnapping allegations, we finally spoke with your Lord Fury and the stubborn man I assume to be your fiance, and found out that they had just received a message from Wakanda."

He grudgingly inclined his head towards T'Challa, who returned the gesture, but with much more grace.

"While your friends turned down our offer to sail them here in our ship, they did not turn down our offer to assist in an extraction." He paused, then gave them both a crooked half-smile. "Not that we gave them much choice. Thor was most distraught over your loss, you see."

"Just Thor?" Bucky asked, wondering who Loki was fooling.

Loki shrugged. "Thor was the loudest about it," he said mildly, before frowning and cocking his head at Tony. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, reaching up towards Tony's neck. "You have a bit of a rash, here -"

Tony squawked and batted his hand away, face flaming, while T'Challa caught Bucky's eye across the table, mouth twitching.

Bucky frowned and turned his head towards Tony, only to freeze when he realized that Loki was talking about the red marks that were just barely visible above Tony's collar - marks Bucky himself had put there the night before.

"It's a sting," Tony huffed indignantly while Bucky coughed and looked down, fighting the heat he could feel creeping up his neck. "Do you know how many bugs are in this jungle? I'm lucky I haven't been eaten alive, you should see the size of some of-"

"Tony?"

Bucky jumped minutely and looked up towards the doorway, where a woman with dark, wavy hair was standing next to a Dora Milaje, expression a mixture of relief and incredulity as she stared at Tony.

Tony stood up, tone disbelieving when he said, "Pegs?"

The woman who could only have been the infamous Aunt Peggy sucked in a sharp breath, then marched across the room towards them, eyes shining with emotion. Her face split in a wide grin when Tony met her halfway with a hug, which she returned without hesitation and with twice the enthusiasm.

"You, young man, have caused quite a bit of trouble," she said, pulling back so she could reach up and clumsily pat at Tony's cheek.

'Meek' was not a word Bucky ever thought he'd use to describe Tony, but it was the word that came to mind when Tony ducked his head. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, sounding younger than Bucky had ever heard him.

It made something in Bucky's chest twist, and he started to stand - to comfort Tony, or defend him, he didn't know - but before he could say anything Peggy's face softened.

"Don't be, darling, it wasn't your fault," she said firmly, her expression turning worried now that she had a better look at Tony's face. "Heavens, you look terrible," she said, eyes widening as she brought her other hand up to tilt his head back. "And - goodness, what's this on your neck?"

Bucky's chair screeched under him as he sat down hastily, drawing both Tony and Peggy's attention.

"Apparently Tony's been ill, and nobody bothered to tell us," Loki interrupted helpfully, waving when Peggy glanced over at him.

Peggy frowned. "Your distraction was terrible," she told him, before turning her attention back to Tony. "Is this true?"

Tony sighed, but apparently his respect for his aunt was even greater than Bucky had estimated, because he didn't brush her off entirely. "It's not as big as all that," he began, only to be interrupted by a loud - and vaguely familiar - boom of "My friends!"

Though Bucky had had an idea of who the voice belonged to, it was still a surprise to see him all but bounding into the dining room, arms outspread. Peggy and Tony both startled and turned, but before either of them could say or do anything else, Thor had Tony crushed against his chest in an embrace.

"Friend Tony! I cannot put into words how happy I am to see you alive!" Thor cried, physically lifting Tony off the ground in his enthusiasm while the other occupants of the room - minus Loki and the Asgardians that filed in with Thor - stared on in shock.

Tony said something that might have been "I'm happy to see you, too, Thor," - it was hard to tell with his face mashed up against Thor's shoulder - before Thor finally set him back on his feet, beaming.

"Do be careful with him, brother, he's still in recovery," Loki said, though Bucky could tell the reproach was halfhearted at best.

Thor snorted and turned to his brother, only to freeze and beam harder when he spotted Bucky. "Friend James!" he cried, raising his arms and making his way over to the table.

Deciding escape was futile, Bucky stood up to meet his fate, and thought he heard Loki mutter "I'm adopted," to T'Challa before the world went a bit muffled as he, too, was lifted up in a bone-crushing hug.

"Good to see you, too, pal," Bucky wheezed, tapping on Thor's shoulder when his ribs started to protest to the pressure.

Grinning, Thor let him go, but kept an arm around his shoulders so he could steer him back towards Tony - who was currently getting hugged, albeit much more gently, by another tall, familiar blond.

And damn if seeing Steve didn't feel like a punch to Bucky's gut.

"We have brought your friends and Tony's beloved," Thor said happily, oblivious to Bucky's sudden disquiet - or his slight flinch at the word 'beloved'. "They are quite a formidable bunch, especially the ladies Peggy and Natasha."

Bucky nodded numbly, swallowing when Stevie reached up and squeezed the back of Tony's neck, expression fond and relieved.

Tony ducked his head in embarrassment, then said something too quiet for Bucky's ears to pick up and pointed towards Bucky and Thor.

Steve's head whipped up towards them, his shoulders slumping in relief when he set eyes on Bucky.

Bucky swallowed, hard, and gave him a tentative smile. "What took you so long, punk?" he asked shakily.

Steve huffed out a startled laugh, then pulled Bucky into a hug, calling him stupid and about a dozen other names that would have earned him a smack from his ma back in the day - he and Stevie talk for 'I love you', which made Bucky feel all the worse for it. Swallowing hard, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve, catching Tony's eye over Stevie's shoulder in the process, and seeing his own guilt mirrored in Tony's miserable expression.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN** : Second to last chapter, guys. ~_~

* * *

There was a strong wind blowing from the sea the next day - not so strong as to cause a problem for the two ships' departure, but just enough to make hearing one another difficult once everyone was on the dock.

Even so, Bucky didn't have any problem hearing T'Challa when he said, "I suppose this is farewell, then."

Bucky cleared his throat and bowed his head. "Looks like," he said, and offered the king his hand.

"Though the circumstances of our meeting were far from ideal," T'Challa said as he shook Bucky's hand. "I am not afraid to say I'm very sorry to see you go, Bucky Barnes."

Throat tight, Bucky gave him a wobbly smile. "I don't know how I can ever repay you," he said quietly, subtly glancing at Tony, who was standing beside him.

Having already bid T'Challa their thanks and farewells, Steve and the others were waiting a polite distance away, far enough to give Tony, Bucky, and T'Challa some privacy, but not so far as to let either one of their friends out of their site.

T'Challa chuckled. "I do," he said, patting Bucky's arm and tilting his head towards Tony. "Take care of this one for me, yes?"

Bucky laughed. "Always," he promised, while Tony huffed indignantly.

T'Challa grinned, then turned to Tony and took his hand in both of his. "You, too, my friend," he said gravely, motioning towards Bucky with his chin. "Though this one pretends to be strong, he needs much looking after."

Tony met Bucky's eyes briefly, then skittered away. "I know," he said in a tone nearly as serious as T'Challa's, then smiled crookedly and added, "If you're ever in Aavenge, you'll come visit me, okay?"

T'Challa's smile was wide enough to show them his dimples. "I look forward to it," he promised, before stepping back and nodding towards the two ships behind them. "In the meantime, I will bid you both a safe journey, and wish you happiness upon your return."

Bucky and Tony both glanced at each other, then away.

"We'll certainly try, but you know us," Bucky said, earning him a tiny smile from T'Challa and a whack in the side from Tony.

"Then that is all I will ask of you," T'Challa said seriously, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Tony sighed, then stepped forward, face oddly serious. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said formally, and bowed his head.

"You are very welcome, Your Lordship," T'Challa returned, and surprised Tony by bowing his head as well.

"God, I hope he didn't just jinx us with the safe journey thing," Tony muttered as they walked back towards the others.

Bucky, who had been having similar thoughts, made a face.

With their luck, Quill's ship probably had a slow leak.

* * *

"Absolutely not," Rhodes said sharply, when Tony showed interest in sailing back on the Asgardians' ship instead of Quill's. "I already told you next time you'd ride with me, remember?"

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but was steamrolled by Peggy.

"Don't worry, Captain Rhodes, there's not going to be a next time," Peggy said pleasantly. Tony blinked in surprise and then perked up, only to groan when Peggy added, "Because I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

Tony scowled and turned to Steve, who was shaking his head before Tony could even speak.

"Oh no, we only just got you back," he said firmly, crossing his arms. "I'm with Peggy and Rhodey - you stay with us, on the Milano, where we can keep an eye on you. Right, Bucky?" he added, turning towards Bucky and faltering when he saw Bucky inching towards the Bifrost. "Buck?"

Bucky grunted. "You do what you want, I'm riding in the giant floating fort that survived an angry, venom-spitting sea monster attack," he said, pointing at the Bifrost with his thumb.

Tony jabbed a finger at Bucky. "See!"

Steve's mouth thinned. "We should stick together," he protested, face pinched.

"Then climb aboard, they got plenty'a room," Bucky sniffed, then pointedly tilted his head towards Tony. "And a pretty well-stocked sickbay, if I recall."

That, at least, gave both Steve and Rhodes pause. Rhodes eyed the ship, expression thoughtful, then turned to Peggy.

"The Milano's sickbay _is_ a bit lacking," he admitted, mouth downturned.

Tony nodded and snapped his fingers. "See, that's a no go. What if I relapse, or take a turn for the worst?" he asked, eyes wide.

"He's right, you know," Romanoff, who'd been quietly watching over the proceedings from the Milano's railing, remarked. "He already looks like he's on death's door."

Tony threw his hands in the air. "Why does everything keep saying that?" he demanded. "I haven't seen any of you in weeks, and the first thing out of everyone's mouth is 'Tony, you look terrible!' or 'Tony, you look dead!'" He crossed his arms, mouth turned down. "Once, just once, I'd like somebody to remind me how handsome I am."

"I still think you're handsome, Tony," Lord Quill quipped from the Milano's stern - likely, Bucky thought, because he couldn't see Peggy from that angle.

Tony huffed and rolled his eyes, then froze, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Thank you, Peter!" he called up sweetly. Then he turned to Peggy, the picture of innocence, and asked, "Do you really want me on the same ship as Peter?"

As one, Peggy, Steve, Rhodes, and Bucky all looked over at the Milano's stern. Lord Quill, who'd been cheerfully waving at Tony, froze, then hastily dropped his hand, withering under the combined might of their glare.

Peggy turned back to Tony. "Fine," she sniffed. "But you'd better be right about there being plenty of room, because I'm sailing with you."

* * *

Bucky, Tony, Steve, Peggy, Rhodes, Romanoff, and Clint Barton all ended up boarding the Bifrost, and the two ships finally departed.

Thor, of course, was ecstatic, and called for another feast.

"To celebrate our friends' glorious return!" he proclaimed, after nearly breaking Bucky's back with another rib-cracking hug.

"Uh, you really don't-" Steve began, only to break off with a sharp "Ouch!" when Peggy stepped on his foot.

"That sounds lovely," Peggy said, smiling widely. "In the meantime, could I trouble you to show us where we're staying? I have much to catch Tony up on, and we didn't get a chance in Wakanda."

"But of course," replied Hogun, nodding gravely. Then he tilted his head towards Tony. "Would you and Sir Barnes like the same room you had before, or…?"

"No," Bucky said quickly, before coughing and adding, "Uh, that is… we won't be sharing a room, this time."

Hogun - and Peggy - gave him a strange look, then shrugged. "Alright, then. We can find you something else," he said, turning and motioning for them all to follow.

"We will have a joyous journey!" Thor said cheerfully, patting Bucky on the back as he passed.

"Yes, and this time, we promise not to let you fall off," Fandral added, touching the side of his nose and winking at them.

Bucky and Tony both grinned. Steve and Peggy, however, didn't think it was funny.

* * *

To Bucky's dismay, he ended up sharing a cabin with Steve.

"You don't mind, do you?" Steve asked, giving Bucky, God help him, the sad eyes.

"No," Bucky lied, sitting down on his bed and rubbing at his eyes. When he stopped and looked up, Steve was still standing there, looking at him expectantly. "What?"

Steve shook his head. "It's just… it's good to see you. With everything that's been going on, we haven't had a moment alone." He rubbed at his mouth, then grinned, eyes a little brighter as he asked, "So... 'Sir Barnes'?"

Bucky scoffed. "Tony knighted me," he said, mouth twitching in spite of himself. "On account of me fighting a dragon for him, and all."

Steve winced, then plopped down in the bunk across from Bucky's. "I'd been hoping Thor had exaggerated that," he said, looking down and resting his elbows on his knees. "But God, I'm glad you're okay... Shield thought you were dead."

Bucky cleared his throat. "I'm glad I had Fury's confidence," he replied, even though he was neither bothered nor surprised.

Steve grimaced. "In his defense, the signs weren't much in your favor," he said, mouth turned down unhappily. "We got the ransom letter that proved Tony was alive, but we never heard anything about you. Then we found your horse and some of your equipment in the desert, but no sign of you, and with the mess of that camp…" He bit his lip. "We didn't even know you two were together until Thor's group told us, and we got the message from Wakanda that mentioned you specifically by name."

Bucky grunted and looked away, feeling uncomfortable under Steve's scrutiny.

"You asked me to look after him," Bucky said quietly, when he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Steve stood up, and then a hand landed on Bucky's shoulder. "Thank you," he said softly, expression open and earnest in a way only Stevie could manage. "Thank you for looking after him, and getting him - and yourself - back to me safely."

Bucky ducked his head, face warming with embarrassment - and a trickle of shame. "Don't thank me," he mumbled, glancing down at his hands. "He had my back as much as I had his."

Steve chuckled. "He has a way of doing that," he agreed, chewing on his lip.

"He's amazing," Bucky said softly, digging his hands into his thighs "You were right, Stevie, everything you said and more. He's funny and kind and brave and loyal and-" He stopped himself, throat burning, and then forced himself to look up at Steve. "You're lucky to have him," he said, keeping his voice steady by sheer force of will.

Steve cleared his throat and looked away, his face clouding over in… guilt?

Bucky frowned. "You're not… blaming yourself for any of this, are you?" he asked slowly, standing up so he would be eye-level with Steve. "Because that's a special kinda stupid there, Stevie. Nobody could have predicted any of this."

Steve shrugged. "Maybe not," he said, but he was still wearing that sad, faraway look in his eye.

Bucky sighed, ready to argue his point, and then froze when some of what Steve had said earlier caught up with him.

"Wait - did you say ransom letter?" he asked, brow furrowed.

Steve blinked in surprise. "What?"

"A second ago. You said you knew Tony was alive because of the ransom letter," Bucky said slowly, frowning. "The bandits that took him wanted him to build things for them. They never said anything about a ransom."

Steve's face darkened. "Probably because they weren't the ones doing the ransoming. They were just the ones doing the dirty work," he said with a scowl.

Bucky felt his spine stiffen, fury simmering low in his belly. "Who?" he growled, clenching his fists.

Steve squared his jaw. "The same person who poisoned Lord Stark," he said. "Obadiah Stane. Lord Stark's senior advisor, and Tony's godfather."

* * *

Stane had done it, Steve said, in hopes of giving himself a shot at the throne.

"That's just fucking stupid," Bucky hissed, breathing hard and clenching and unclenching his fists. "Wouldn't Peggy - Lady Margaret - just be named Head of Stark?"

Steve nodded. "It would have to be voted upon by the other courts, but yes. She's the first blood relative, so it'd go to her by default. Unless -" Steve's face soured. "She turned it down, or named someone in her stead."

"And he thought she'd actually do that?" Bucky asked incredulously, shaking his head. "No, never mind - he thought he could make her do that -"

"By blackmailing her with Tony's life," Steve finished, scowling. "It's the reason the bastard had him kidnapped instead of killed. He had a prior association with the leader of the people who held you -"

"Raza," Bucky supplied, squaring his jaw.

"- Raza, right, that was the name on the letters. Stane had been doing dealings with him for years - selling Stark secrets and ideas, even some of Tony and Lord Howard's inventions - so when he needed a way to get Tony _out_ of the way, he thought of him first." Steve stopped and rubbed his hands together, jaw working furiously. "He had it all planned out. Kill Lord Howard, kidnap Tony so he could blackmail Peggy, and once he was named Head of Stark, get rid Peggy and Tony."

Bucky gritted his teeth. "Where is the bastard now?"

Wherever he was, Bucky was going to make damn sure he wasn't going to hurt Tony - or anybody - ever again.

Steve's mouth twitched. "Dead," he said, and there was no hiding the satisfaction in his voice.

Bucky shifted, and regarded him suspiciously. "How?"

"By underestimating Peggy Carter Stark," Steve said smugly.

Bucky straightened. "She killed him?"

"Technically, the fall did," Steve said, though he still looked far too smug for that to be the whole story.

Bucky crossed his arms. "What happened?"

Steve rubbed at his mouth. "Since the attacks were only on the Starks, Peggy figured that whoever had orchestrated everything must have wanted someone other than Tony or Howard in position of Head of Stark, and that Howard not actually dying had to have ruined whoever's plans," he said, mouth twitching. "So, the second he woke up, she had Lord Stark abdicate his position and name her head instead, since the heir was still in the wind. Once Stane found out, he confronted her - just like Peggy had hoped he would - and, well..."

He shrugged, and if Bucky wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of pride in his voice as he added, "Don't ever challenge the new Lady Stark to a fight, and never near a third-story window."

Bucky's grin was feral. "I like her," he said, startling a chuckle out of Steve.

"Yeah, she's… something else," he agreed, and gave Bucky a brittle smile.

Bucky frowned, wondering what he'd said wrong. He started to ask, but before he could say anything Steve laughed, and rubbed his hands over his face. "I just can't believe all of this happened," he muttered. "Stane had been planning this for years, but he had to move quickly once Tony and I got engaged. I," he stopped and shook his head, then stared off into space. "Do you realize, now, that there's only a few weeks left until the wedding?"

Bucky sucked in a quick breath, and let it out just as suddenly, looking down so Stevie wouldn't see his expression.

No, he hadn't realized, but - it had been almost three months, hadn't it? It felt like longer - hell, it felt like a lifetime ago - but it hadn't been, really, not in the grand scheme of things. Life went on, and in a few weeks, Bucky's best friend and the man Bucky loved more than anything were going to get married.

When he finally returned his gaze to Steve's face, he was surprised at how somber Steve looked.

"A lot has changed," Steve said, looking down at his clasped hands.

Bucky cleared his throat. "Yeah," he mumbled hoarsely, remembering how warm Tony had always felt at his side. "It has."

* * *

Tony was quiet and distant when Bucky saw him at Thor's feast, sitting nestled between Peggy and Rhodes, who had an arm thrown protectively around his shoulders. Bucky hesitated when he saw him, and to his surprise, so did Steve. Unlike Bucky, though, Steve didn't tamp down on the urge to walk over to him, and then quietly squeeze himself between Tony and Peggy.

Tony's eyes found Bucky's, looking faintly guilty when Steve slid an arm around him as well, but Bucky only gave him a tiny, strained smile, and then moved further down until he was sitting between Romanoff and Volstagg.

"Aye, my friend, you look like you could use this," Volstagg said cheerfully, plopping a full goblet down in front of Bucky.

Bucky gulped down about half of it in one go, then turned to Romanoff, who was staring at him with one eyebrow raised, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What?"

Romanoff shrugged, he expression taking on its usual, careful blankness. "Nothing," she replied. "You're… different, is all."

Bucky scowled. "I've been stabbed, shot at, shocked, drown, beat up, cut up, and nearly eaten, drowned, disemboweled, blown up, and executed in the last several weeks," he said stiffly, accepting another drink when Volstagg offered it to him. "I think that might change someone a little, don't you?"

Romanoff frowned. "I imagine," she agreed. Then she shocked Bucky by carefully patting the top of his leg. "I'm sorry, Bucky," she said softly. "If we had gotten to you sooner, we might have been able to spare you some of the pain."

Bucky put down his cup, and glanced further up the table, at Tony. He looked half-asleep, and as Bucky watched he started leaning into Steve, until his head was resting on Steve's shoulder and his eyes started drooping.

"I doubt it," Bucky said, before asking Volstagg to refill his cup.

* * *

Bucky spent the rest of the voyage avoiding Tony. He tried avoiding Steve, too, but that wasn't as successful, especially when Stevie kept trying to hunt him down and talk to him, all earnest and worried.

Bucky lied through his teeth, telling Steve that everything was fine and that he just wanted a little solitude after not having any in weeks. Steve believed him, but then he started getting all earnest and worried about that, too, so Bucky had to find new ways of getting him to leave Bucky alone.

Hiding, of course, worked best, but hanging around other people - the Asgardians in particular - worked pretty well, too. So Bucky spared with Sif and joked with Thor, and talked with Hogun and got to know Rhodes. He challenged Clint and Volstagg to archery competitions, and Fandral and Natasha to knife throwing ones. He participated in their drunken bets and revelry, and joined their conversations when he was invited.

And he continued to avoid Tony.

Bucky felt terrible for it - he knew he wasn't being fair, to either Tony or Steve - but it hurt too much to do anything else. He physically ached, sometimes, when he passed Tony by chance, or spotted him in the mess during meals. He kept thinking of things he wanted to tell Tony - jokes Bucky knew he would find funny, or just things he thought about that he wanted to share. He woke up at night feeling cold and empty, rolling over and reaching for someone who wasn't there.

To make everything worse, Steve was still acting guilty, and seemed to have decided to make up for it by sticking to Tony's side like glue. Bucky kept catching them together - talking, eating, walking around the ship - and even though he knew he didn't have the right, it still made his insides burn with shame and guilt and jealousy. One night he found them both sitting on the upper deck, talking softly while Tony leaned into Steve's side, and had very nearly cried with how right it had looked, even as every fiber of Bucky's being had screamed it was wrong.

So, yes, Bucky really was looking forward to being back on land - where avoidance would be much easier - and therefore gave a mental sigh of relief when Heimdall announced that they would be at port within the next day or two.

"You must be relieved to finally be going home," Peggy - Lady Stark, now, Bucky supposed - said quietly, leaning against the railing to Bucky's left.

Bucky gave her a thin smile. "Careful, now, you'll curse us," he warned. "I wouldn't put it past Quill to accidentally plow into our ship and sink us both, or a flock of man-eating eagles to fly overhead and try to carry us off."

Peggy chuckled. "Funny, Tony said the same thing. Only his example involved a giant tentacle coming out of the sea and plucking him from the deck."

Bucky nodded. "Equally likely," he agreed, before returning his gaze to the horizon.

Peggy didn't take the hint, however, and remained where she was. Bucky could feel her eyes on him, so after a few minutes had passed he finally turned back to her. "Is there something you wanted?"

Peggy's face turned pensive. "In a matter of speaking," she said slowly, cocking her head. She seemed in no hurry to elaborate, however, so Bucky sighed and went back to staring at the ocean.

"Tony's in love with you, did you know?"

The railing beneath Bucky's hands cracked.

Peggy raised her eyebrows. "I'll take that as a yes," she said mildly, nodding towards Bucky's hands. "Is that why you've been avoiding him?"

Bucky cleared his throat, and then worked his jaw, removing his hands from the railing before he snapped it in half. "In a matter of speaking," he said finally, using Peggy's words as well.

Peggy's mouth thinned. "That's all you have to say about it?" she asked, eyes narrowed. "Nothing else to add? Nothing about yourself?"

Bucky sucked in a breath, and laughed humorlessly. "What can I say?" he said with a shrug. "It was bound to happen, after all -" He waved his hand around to encompass... everything. "- this. It happens. He suffered through a lot of traumatic events, and I was there with him through every one of them. He - we - were bound to latch on to each other."

Which was a lie, Bucky knew, at least on his part. He would have fallen in love with Tony if they'd spent the last two months leisurely strolling through meadows, but this woman didn't have to know that.

"I see," Peggy said slowly, eyes hardening.

Bucky raised his chin at her definitely. He wasn't going to let Tony get in trouble because he'd fallen for the wrong man.

"Well, see to it that you don't upset him," she said coolly, after a few more seconds of regarding him. "He hasn't said anything, but I know you've been hurting him by avoiding him."

Bucky barely suppressed a flinch, then scowled.

"That's what I've been tryin' to avoid," he mumbled, half to himself.

* * *

The following day - after two sea voyages, miles of walking through deserts and valleys and jungles, and weeks of travel - Bucky finally set foot on Aavenge soil.

"Damn, I forgot how much Marvel Port smells," Tony exclaimed when he stepped off - but he was grinning, and his eyes were a little damp.

Bucky shot him a wide grin before he remembered he was supposed to be avoiding him, then caught Steve's eye, and looked away.

It looked like half of Shield had been waiting for them to arrive, and they received a warm welcome from all of them, including Lord Fury himself and all of the Howling Commandos, who tried to crush Bucky in a large and rather embarrassing group hug.

"Dumbass. We thought you were dead. Again!" Dum-dum complained, whacking him on the back and then turning to Sif. "Why, hello, there…"

Fury even gave Bucky a pat on the back, which, from him, might as well have been a hug and a love confession.

"You did a good job, Barnes," he said in an undertone. "I had my doubts before, but… good job."

Bucky nodded and, since Fury seemed to be in a good mood, gave the man a lazy salute he didn't think he would have gotten away with ordinarily.

Fury twitched, then went to find Steve so he could ream into him for apparently taking off with Lord Quill and Peggy without his permission.

"Your father, Mr. Jarvis, and Pepper will be waiting for you at the Triskelion," Peggy told Tony as she started leading him away. "They'll be anxious to see you - Mr. Jarvis has been worrying himself sick, and Ana - goodness gracious, she's going to be in a state…"

Bucky heard a sound beside him, and looked over to see Rhodes standing next to him.

"Must be good to be home, right?" he said, giving Bucky a warm smile.

Bucky gave him a half-smile in return. "Yeah, I... great."

* * *

A week after their return, a ball was held in their honor at the Triskelion.

"But I don't _want_ a ball in my honor," Bucky protested, tugging at his uncomfortable formal wear while he waited for Steve.

"Well, good, because it's not technically for you so much as to celebrate Tony's safe return, and as a good-will gesture to thank the Asgardians for their help," Steve replied, adjusting his shirt in the mirror and then scowling at his reflection.

"If it's not in my honor, why do I have to go?" Bucky grumbled, staring longingly at the stool by Steve's mirror. He wanted to sit down, but both Coulson and Hill had already yelled at him for wrinkling his clothes.

Steve gave him a tired look. "Because you're still being honored, and it would be rude not to go," he said, working his jaw. "Also, I have to go, and if I have to be miserable, so do you."

Bucky crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, turning away so he wouldn't be glaring at his reflection in the mirror. "Yeah, but _you_ won't be miserable. You'll have Tony there to keep you company," Bucky said, and, huh, that sounded far more bitter than he intended.

Steve looked up at him in surprise, face flickering with something Bucky couldn't identify. "Yeah, I guess he will," he mumbled, but he didn't sound happy about it.

Bucky frowned and uncrossed his arms, noticing how Steve's shoulders were now bunched up under the ridiculous cape he was wearing.

Bucky opened his mouth to ask him about it, but then Coulson walked in.

"Okay, we're ready to - oh, for the love of Shield, what you have two done to your clothes?!"

* * *

The ball was every bit as boring and miserable as Bucky - and Steve - had predicted.

Bucky spent most of it alternating between avoiding Tony (and by extension, Steve, who was once again stuck to Tony's side), drinking anything and everything that was handed to him, and trying to blend in with the wall. He tried to engage some of his Asgardian friends, but Fandral was more interested in flirting with the high society ladies than talking to Bucky; Sif was absorbed in a frankly terrifying discussion on weapons concealment with Hill, Romanoff, and Peggy; Thor was trailing after a woman named Jane Foster, to whom Tony had introduced him; and Hogun, Volstagg, and Heimdall were nowhere to be found, which left him with -

"Goodness, you Avengers like to water down your liquor," Loki complained, walking over to stand beside Bucky.

"We don't all have the iron livers you Asgardians seem to posses," Bucky retorted, glaring into the glass of his own weak wine.

Loki sniffed. "Still, if you're not even going to try to get drunk at one of these parties, why bother?" he sighed, swishing the contents of his cup around.

Bucky sighed as well, and downed the rest of his glass. "Why are you talking to me, Loki? You don't even like me."

"Well, that's not entirely true," Loki said, raising an eyebrow. "I like you just fine when you're not talking."

Bucky turned to face him fully, and crossed his arms.

"You looked lonely," Loki replied, straight-faced.

When Bucky only gave him an unimpressed look, he shrugged. "You're the only person I know here who isn't talking to someone else," he admitted grumpily.

"You could always talk to Tony."

Loki wrinkled his nose.

"He's been with Lord Steven all evening. Which is why, I'm assuming, you're not talking to him, either."

Bucky didn't say anything - which was answer enough - so Loki toasted him with his cup. Then he looked across the ballroom and sighed, shaking his head slightly.

"You must admit, they do look good together, don't they?" Loki said grudgingly, tilting his cup towards Tony and Steve.

Bucky started to look away, mouth twisting, only to stop and follow Loki's gaze, brow furrowing.

Because they really… didn't. Tony had looked unhappy all evening, and now, standing at Steve's arm while they spoke with Lord Richards, he looked absolutely miserable. Steve, too, looked tired and worn, and kept glancing around the ballroom as though looking for something.

They were standing next to each other, but they weren't standing _together_ , and, somehow, seeing it now, in a room full of people they were supposed to one day rule over…

As if sensing eyes on him, Tony glanced their way, then did a double-take when he spotted Bucky.

Stomach swooping, Bucky lifted his chin, and slowly, deliberately, met his eyes

The smile that spread across Tony's face was the first real smile Bucky had seen from him all evening. It was also the sweetest, brightest thing Bucky had ever seen in his entire life.

Feeling breathless, Bucky tried to return it, and held Tony's gaze until someone stepped in front of Tony and blocked him from view.

Still breathless, Bucky leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes - and made a decision.

He had to tell Steve.

He couldn't keep doing this - to himself, to Tony, or to Steve - and if they weren't happy together anyway…

Bucky opened his eyes, and caught Tony looking at him again, opening longing in his expression.

Steve would understand. He _had_ to.

* * *

Later that night - once the ball was over, and Bucky was sure Steve had returned to his chambers - Bucky went down to talk to Steve.

A part of him thought he should have asked Tony first, or at least told him what he was doing, but Bucky knew if he had, then Tony probably would have insisted he come, too. And Bucky wanted to talk to Steve by himself - in part because he thought it might sound better coming from him, but mostly because he didn't want Tony there in case Steve actually did get angry.

Steve's door was cracked when Bucky got there, so Bucky started to let himself in, only to pause when he heard Steve's voice.

"- really glad. I was worried, after everything, that you…"

Bucky hesitated. He didn't know who Steve was talking to, but his tone was warm and intimate, and it didn't sound like something Bucky should interrupt.

"Of course I'm okay, Steve. Not everything is your fault."

Bucky frowned. Because that, that was Tony's voice, sounding almost as soft as Steve's, which was puzzling in and of itself.

Moving carefully, Bucky peaked through the crack of the door -

And felt his heart shatter into pieces.

Tony and Steve were standing in the middle of Steve's sitting room. Bucky couldn't see Tony's face, but Tony's hand was on Steve's cheek, and Steve was looking down between them, where his hand was holding Tony's jasper pendant. As Bucky watched, Steve bent down until his head was resting on Tony's shoulder, and pulled Tony into a tight hug, which Tony returned.

"Thank you, Tony," Steve mumbled, voice muffled by Tony's shoulder. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, for giving me this chance -"

Bucky couldn't listen anymore.

He backed away from the door, heart pounding and eyes stinging, and ran his hands over his face, as if he could wipe away the sight, or maybe the tears he was determined weren't going to fall.

What had he been thinking? Tony and Steve were getting married, whether Bucky was in love with Tony or not. Tony had said as much, and one smile, one heated look, didn't change that. Steve and Tony weren't _in_ love with each other, but they still loved each other, and he, Bucky, he...

He never should have come down here. He should have known better. He should have -

He heard footsteps on the other side of the door and gasped, then covered his mouth and took off before either Tony or Steve could see him.

If Tony saw him, he would know, and if Steve saw him, well.

Bucky didn't want to explain why his eyes looked as though he'd been crying.

* * *

Fury peered up at Bucky from behind his desk, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"You literally just got back, Barnes. And you want to go out on another mission? _Now_?"

Bucky squared his jaw. "No, sir," he said, leaning over Fury's desk. "I want to go on _this_ mission."

"Back to the desert," Fury clarified, tapping the scroll that sat between them on the desk. "To round up what's left of the Ten Rings."

Bucky nodded sharply. "You said Steve and Lady Stark couldn't find all of them," he said lowly. "I was with them for weeks, and I know their language; if anyone can find them, I can."

"And it's important that you do this right now?"

"The sooner, the better. I want these bastards caught, before they hurt anyone else." Bucky raised his chin. "Do I have leave, or not?"

Fury regarded him carefully, steepling his hands in front of him. "Fine," he said eventually, though he was still watching Bucky with suspicion. "You have my permission."

Bucky let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and nodded stiffly in thanks, the tension in his shoulders relaxing a tiny fraction.

"You know, this might take awhile," Fury remarked as Bucky turned to leave. "If you go now, you're going to miss the wedding."

Bucky paused in the doorway, knuckles turning white where his hand gripped the doorknob.

"Good," he said softly, without turning around. Then he ripped open the door and stomped out, before Fury could comment on the crack in his voice.


	18. Chapter 18

The sun had barely risen when Bucky left for his mission, leaving the air cool and much of the Triskelion's courtyard in shadow.

He used those same shadows to avoid running into anyone, not in the mood for morning greetings, and had almost made it past the walls when he heard someone shout his name.

Cursing to himself, Bucky started to walk faster - he recognized the voice, and Steve was the very last person he wanted to talk to right now - only to stumble and fall when he was literally tackled from behind.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Bucky yelled, rolling and elbowing Steve in the face, royalty be damned. "You're not five feet tall anymore, you _giant_ , you can't go around _tackling_ people -"

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Steve demanded, pinning the arm Bucky had tried to hit him with and sitting on Bucky's legs.

"On a mission, you psychopath!" Bucky shouted, reaching for his pack with his free hand so he could hit Steve with it instead. "Get off me, Stevie, or I swear to God -"

Steve scowled and rolled off of him, then offered him a hand up, which Bucky refused.

"How could you just leave?" Steve demanded, while Bucky brushed the dirt off of his clothes. "Sneak off at the crack of dawn, without even saying goodbye -"

"I didn't just _leave_ , I told you, I have a mission -"

"- which Fury told me you specifically requested!"

They both glared at each other, breathing hard, before Bucky took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

"Look, I'm not gonna stand here and argue with you," Bucky sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving, but -"

"You're running away," Steve told him, chin jutted out angrily. "You're scared, and now you're running away."

Bucky's temper flared again. "Oh, really?" he snapped. "Tell me, then: what am I supposed to be running away from?"

That, oddly enough, seemed to pacify Steve. He took a deep breath and then let it out, his expression closing off and the tension in his shoulders visibly easing.

"You're in love with Tony," he said simply, voice calm and even.

Bucky's heart stopped.

"I… I don't know what you're talking about," he started, but Steve cut him off by raising his hand.

"You're in love with Tony," he repeated firmly, and took a step forward to make up for the step Bucky took back. "I don't know how I could have missed it before, but it's plain as day now, and you - you're in love with Tony."

"Stop saying that," Bucky snapped, pulling the strap of his pack between his hands, and accidentally breaking it in half. "I'm not, I - I don't know why you're -"

The corners of Steve's mouth ticked up briefly. "You love Tony," he insisted, still infuriatingly calm, and looking at Bucky with eyes that were too knowing, too familiar, and so _Steve_ that Bucky -

Bucky knew he couldn't lie.

His shoulders slumped. "Yes," he whispered, feeling as though the word had been pulled out of him by force.

Steve didn't react like Bucky had expected. He didn't get angry, or upset, or look at Bucky with contempt or disappointment or any of the dozens of other things Bucky had thought he would. In fact, he didn't react at all.

He just blinked, once, his face revealing nothing, though to Bucky it almost seemed as though his eyes were thanking him.

"Why?" Steve asked, still blank-faced, and his gaze piercing.

"Why?" Bucky asked incredulously, his head spinning from all the conflicting emotions he was feeling. "I - what the hell kind of stupid question is that? Of all the things to… you want to know _why_?"

Steve nodded. "Yes, why. You're in love with Tony - but why?"

Bucky laughed, a high, humorless sound that sounded hysterical even to his own ears.

"Why? _Why_?" he nearly shouted, light-headed with how hard it suddenly was to breathe.

"Because he's the most beautiful, amazing, wonderful person I've ever met. Because my chest feels too tight and too warm and too heavy and too light all at once when I think about him. Because he's funny, and kind, and smart, and loyal, and, and -"

Bucky closed his eyes, his chest aching, and pictured Tony's face smiling at him.

"Because he has the most gorgeous eyes, and an amazing laugh, and, God, the way he smiles with his whole face…" He opened his eyes, no longer caring what Steve might see in them. "I'm in love with him because I feel like a whole person when I'm with him, and I've never, ever felt this way, and I -"

He stopped, took a deep breath, looked Steve straight in the eye, and said, "Of _course_ I'm in love with Tony - how can I _not_ be?"

For several long, painful minutes, Steve didn't say anything.

Then his shoulders slumped in relief.

"Good," he said, and smiled warmly at Bucky. "Because I'm not."

Bucky blinked, thrown. "You… what?"

Steve sighed, but his smile grew wider. "I'm not in love with Tony," he repeated patiently, eyes bright, before stepping closer to Bucky.

"I know," Bucky said slowly, doing his best to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "You said that before, remember?"

Steve shook his head. "Buck, you don't understand," he said, chewing his bottom lip. "I called off the wedding."

Bucky dropped his pack.

"What?" he whispered, stunned.

If Steve was tired of repeating things, it didn't show in his voice or his face. "I called off the wedding," he said, grinning. "Me and Tony - we're not getting married. To each other. _I'm not marrying Tony_ ," he added when Bucky still didn't react, and put his hands on Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky swallowed thickly, still too stunned to think straight. "You... _why_?"

"Because he's smart and loyal and funny and kind," Steve said, eyes soft. "Because he was willing to marry a guy he didn't even love for the good of the whole kingdom." He shook his head, expression fond, and then reached out and slipped a hand behind Bucky's neck to give it a squeeze, just like Bucky used to do to him when they were kids. "And because he deserves to be happy with the person he loves, just like you do."

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it. "You…" he started slowly, even as his breathing quickened. "You and Tony aren't getting married."

Steve huffed, grin wide enough to split his face. "Tony and I aren't getting married," he confirmed, and pressed their foreheads together.

It was too much.

"I'm sorry," Bucky rasped as Steve wrapped his arms around him. Bucky returned the hug with as much force as possible, feeling like he'd shake apart if he didn't. "I'm so, so sorry, Stevie, I -"

"Hey, come on, you've got nothing to be sorry about," Steve soothed, patting Bucky on the back and ruffling his hair lightly. "We can't help who we fall in love with - I know that better than anyone. I've already been over this with Tony. You didn't do anything wrong."

The mention of Tony's name made something in Bucky's chest ease. "Tony, he really -" Bucky started, voice shaking. "He told you he was in love with me?"

Steve snorted. "Not exactly," he sighed, arms holding Bucky in place when he tried to pull back. "No, don't start panicking again. I think he thought he was protecting you by not saying your name," he huffed, shaking his head. "He just told me he was in love with someone else. But then in the next breath he was asking if I knew where you were, and with everything that happened, and the way you two have been acting since we found you, well… it wasn't hard to figure out."

He sounded both exasperated and fond, and far too amused with the whole situation at large, which was what made Bucky really start to relax.

Bucky sniffed embarrassingly. "You know, a lot of guys wouldn't be so understanding of their best friends stealin' away their fiances," he gasped, voice muffled by Steve's shoulder.

Steve laughed into his hair. "Tony was never really mine to steal," he pointed out dryly, before pulling back and turning more serious. "You know that, right? I mean, we never really promised - we've always been just friends."

Bucky hiccuped and nodded. "Tony isn't anybody's," he said softly, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand. "He's his own person, and always has been."

"Except his heart," Steve said quietly, face softening. "That _does_ belong to you. Same as this -" He placed his hand over Bucky's chest. "- belongs to him."

Bucky swallowed and ducked his head, throat tight.

"When did you get so philosophical?" he asked once he could speak again. "I don't remember you being so touchy-feely before. What happened to that shrimpy little punk who ran his mouth and spoke and thought with his fists?"

Steve snorted, his eyes dancing. "He grew up," he said, then looked down and smiled to himself. "And learned a thing or two about what you're feeling right now, too."

Bucky frowned, curiosity piqued, but before he could get Steve to elaborate the other man cleared his throat and starting speaking again.

"You need to go talk to Tony," he said, face serious. "Everyone from Stark House is going home later today, and he - I know he wanted to see you before he left."

"I will," Bucky said, a happy, giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest. "I will, right now, I -" He cut himself off when he remembered what he'd been doing, adrenaline making his mind race and go blank at the same time. "I, uh, still have a mission," he said numbly, staring down at his pack.

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'll take care of it," he snorted, and tilted his head back towards Triskelion. "Go. Find Tony. And quickly, before Fury and Howard get together and try to marry him off to one of the Asgardian princes."

Though he knew Steve was teasing, Bucky remembered Thor laughing at Tony's jokes, and Loki and Tony sitting with their heads together on the Bifrost's deck, and felt a genuine stirring of horror.

It must have shown on his face, because Steve's teasing smile evaporated into exasperation. "Buck, I promise, nobody is going to come swooping in with another marriage proposal the day after Tony's engagement has been broken," he said patiently.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Bucky growled, before spinning around and running back through the gates.

* * *

It didn't occur to Bucky that he should have perhaps asked Steve just where Tony was staying until he was standing in the middle of the Triskelion's great central foyer, trying to decide which staircase to take.

He'd thought he'd heard one of the guards mention Lord Stark being in the western wing, but he was certain they had been talking about Tony's father. Still, they'd probably put them close to each other, right?

Just as Bucky started for the western staircase, Clint started skipping down the eastern one, humming cheerfully and munching on an apple.

"Hey!" he called, waving when he saw Bucky. "I thought I saw you barreling in from the window. What's going on, I thought you were-"

"Where's Tony staying?" Bucky interrupted, pausing at the bottom of the staircase with one hand on the banister, which creaked under his grip.

Clint cocked his head. "Uh, what?"

Bucky gritted his teeth. "Where is Lord Anthony's suite?" he demanded, with far less patience than his last request.

Clint still look confused, but pointed up behind himself with his thumb. "The eastern wing, one floor up from here, five rooms down from Ste- _Lord Steven's_ rooms, in Americana Hall," he replied, tone hasty in response to the aggression in Bucky's. "But I don't-"

Bucky abandoned the other staircase to barrel past Clint. "Wait! I don't think you should - Fury's -"

The rest of what Clint was saying was cut off as Bucky turned the corner, almost running into two guards.

Bucky flew up another staircase and down several corridors until he finally skidded around the corner of Americana Hall. He counted doors when he got to Steve's room, hoping he was counting from the same direction Clint had intended, and stopped at number five.

A redhead with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose answered the door when he knocked. Bucky thought he had seen Tony talking to her before, but he didn't wait for an introduction.

"Tony?" he called, shouldering his way past the woman and into the room.

There were several people seated at the little sitting area to the right - Fury and Peggy Carter included - but Bucky focused on the only person that mattered.

Tony did a double take when he spotted him, then started to stand, brows knitted in confusion. "Bucky?" he asked, a note of alarm in his voice. "Are you okay? What's-"

"Steve told me," Bucky blurted, hands shaking at his sides.

Tony startled, then stilled, his expression turning blank - save for the cautious flicker of hope Bucky caught in his eyes.

"Steve told you what?" asked the man who had been sitting beside Tony. Peggy kicked him, then shushed him when he started to protest.

Tony's eyes flicked briefly towards the two of them, then back to Bucky.

"Can you leave us alone for a minute?" Tony asked them, his eyes still on Bucky.

"Of course," Peggy said, at the same time both Fury and the man she had kicked said, "Absolutely not," and "Hell no," respectively.

Peggy stood up and glared at the two, hands on her hips. "Howard," she said warningly, but before she could say anything else a tall man holding a tea tray walked in through the still-open door and froze, eyes sweeping over the scene and then widening comically.

"I'm sorry, are we having someone else for tea?" he asked, eyebrows raising at Bucky.

"No," everyone, including Bucky and Tony, said.

Then Tony, face flushed in embarrassment, took a step towards Bucky and tilted his head towards the door. "We should -"

"Oh, no. You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on," said the man that must have been Lord Stark, frowning at his son and ignoring his sister's withering glare.

Looking resigned, Tony closed his eyes and sighed, then turned his head back towards his father.

Bucky, however, was out of patience. He reached out and caught Tony's elbow before he could walk away, ignoring Lord Stark's sharp intake of breath and Fury's narrow-eyed look of disapproval.

Tony looked up at him, eyes wide and bright with curiosity and the same hope Bucky had seen flickering in them before. Bucky chuckled a little in spite of himself and, heedless of the other people in the room, reached up with his free hand and cupped the back of Tony's neck.

Tony's eyelids fluttered briefly when Bucky ran his thumb over the sensitive spot behind his ear, making something in Bucky's chest settle, and giving him the courage to finally say aloud what he hadn't dared say before.

"I love you," Bucky said, calm and clear and solemn, despite his dry mouth and rapidly beating heart.

Then he took Tony's face in his hands, tilted his head back, and kissed him.

There was a loud crash as the tea tray was dropped, but Bucky ignored it, as well as the exclamations that followed.

"Oh _my._ "

" _Barnes!_ "

"WHAT THE-"

"I think we should go," a woman's voice said loudly, while Tony's hands came up to grip the fabric of Bucky's shirt and tug him closer, then settled on Bucky's shoulders.

Distantly, Bucky was aware of Peggy and the redheaded woman ushering the others out amidst very loud protests, as well as the door clicking shut. He thought one or both of them might have said something to him or Tony before they left, but Bucky couldn't tell what, and didn't feel like pulling away from Tony long enough to find out.

"I love you," Bucky whispered against Tony's mouth when they eventually slowed down for breath, because he felt that bore repeating.

Tony chuckled wetly, gasping for air. "And I love _you_ ," he said, callused fingers pressing into Bucky's nape.

Feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, Bucky surged forward and captured Tony's lips again, smothering Tony's breathless gasp and pulling him even closer, until there wasn't an inch of space between them.

Bucky wasn't sure how much time had passed when Tony groaned and finally broke the kiss, breathing hard and laughing weakly.

"I think you just killed my father," he said, shoulders shaking. "And Fury. And, oh God, poor Jarvis…"

Bucky huffed and pressed a kiss to the corner of Tony's mouth, then his temple. "I think your aunt has them all well in hand," he said, rubbing his hand up and down Tony's back and moving down to mouth at the shell of Tony's ear.

Tony shivered and pulled back to give Bucky a stern look, though the bright amusement in his eyes and the happy flush of his cheeks belied it. "Still, while I appreciate the sentiment and enthusiasm, you would have only had to wait a few more minutes and we could have done that in private," he huffed. "I wasn't leaving for hours - what was the hurry?"

Bucky bent down and nuzzled Tony's neck, inhaling deeply and letting Tony's scent wash over him.

"Well, as Stevie pointed out, you're quite popular," Bucky said wryly, lips moving against the sensitive skin of Tony's neck, and eliciting another shiver. "Figured I had to get to you before anyone else had a chance to snatch you up."

He pulled back and grinned crookedly at Tony's dumbfounded expression, which morphed into one of exasperation.

"Right. Because news of my broken engagement hasn't even been announced, and I already have an entire line of suitors waiting with baited breath outside my door," Tony huffed, lips twitching. "Did you duel any of them on the way over here?"

"I would've," Bucky promised, even if he knew Tony was joking. "I'd fight everyone in the kingdom and out of it, if I had to."

Tony chuckled breathlessly, eyes bright. "You sort-of have," he pointed out. "Bandits, dragons, sea monsters…" He shook his head. "In any case, I already told you…" He reached up and held Bucky's cheek. "Given a choice, I will always choose you, James Buchanan Barnes."

Throat tight, Bucky placed his hand over Tony's, then pulled Tony's hand down to his mouth and kissed his palm.

"I love you," Bucky said lowly, moving down to kiss the pulse on Tony's wrist as well.

Tony swallowed thickly. "You said that already," he said hoarsely, bottom lip trembling.

Bucky traced Tony's lip with his thumb. "And I'll say it a thousand times more," he said softly. "I love you, I love you, I love you. From now until forever, and for as long as I live - I love you, Anthony Edward Stark."

Tony's breath hitched, his lip trembling harder and his eyes fluttering shut. "That… sounds dangerously close to a proposal, James Barnes," he said in a wobbly voice.

Bucky leaned forward and brushed their lips together. "Not yet," he murmured, before he carefully walked Tony backwards, until his knees hit the sofa behind him and he plopped down with a quiet 'oof'.

Then, keeping hold of Tony's hand, Bucky sank down to his knees, and folded his arms over Tony's lap.

" _Now_ it's a proposal," he said, never breaking eye contact as he brushed a light kiss against Tony's knuckles.

Tony swallowed, then reached down to stroke a hand through Bucky's hair.

"Are you sure?" he asked hoarsely, blinking rapidly.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life," Bucky whispered. "I've never loved anything as much as I love the time I've spent with you, and I…" He let out a soft breath, and gave Tony's hand a light squeeze. "I don't ever want to be without."

Tony laughed, the sound coming out as a sob. "Time spent with me… I almost got you killed," he gasped in disbelief, bending down until their foreheads were pressed together.

Bucky huffed softly. "Maybe," he admitted. "But more importantly…" He took Tony's hand and pressed it flat against his chest, directly over his heart. "You saved me."

Tony drew in a shuddering breath, fingers spasming against Bucky's chest. "You're more dramatic than I am," he breathed, before squeezing the back of Bucky's neck and choking, "Yes, you idiot. _Of course_ I'll marry you."

And then he kissed Bucky, laughing - or crying, Bucky couldn't tell if the tears were his own or Tony's - while Bucky's heart pounded and soared and exploded all at once, right under Tony's hand.

And right where Bucky intended to keep it for the rest of his life.

* * *

After a few extra minutes spent artfully dodging Fury, Tony's father, Mr. Jarvis, and three people looking for him on Fury's behalf, Steve finally found Peggy, standing in front Tony's suite and peeking through a crack in the door.

He opened his mouth to greet her and was promptly shushed, despite the fact that he was walking up behind her and she couldn't have seen him coming.

Grinning to himself, Steve kept quiet until he was standing beside her, then tilted his head towards the door and whispered, "What is it?"

She looked up to give him a look of fond exasperation, then went back to peeking through the door. "Look."

Steve moved behind her, able to see over her head easily with his height, and peeked through the crack as well - and felt like he would split his face with the force of his smile.

Tony was sitting at the edge of one of the room's little sofas, half-hunched over Bucky - who was slumped over Tony's lap, his face buried in Tony's stomach. One of Tony's hands was combing through Bucky's hair, while the other was tangled with Bucky's, and Bucky's free arm was wrapped firmly around Tony.

"Mr. Jarvis wanted to bludgeon James to death with a tea tray, but I managed to talk him down by showing him this," Peggy said quietly, a soft smile on her face.

Steve chuckled softly, feeling like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't been sure he'd ever get to see Bucky happy again, and this…

"I feel a little less guilty about us, now," Steve muttered, resting his chin atop Peggy's head.

Peggy huffed quietly. "Perhaps," she agreed, before turning her head to look at him and raising an eyebrow. "Don't think I'm going to let you get off telling James about calling off the wedding before me," she added mildly, crossing her arms.

Steve grinned sheepishly. "It was kind of an emergency," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "And Tony hadn't told you yet, either."

Peggy's mouth twitched. "Excuses, excuses," she said, though Steve could tell she wasn't truly mad.

He grinned again, unrepentant, and went back to watching Tony and Bucky.

"We should tell them, first, before we say anything to anyone else," he said, taking Peggy's hand in his.

Peggy returned the pressure, and laced their fingers together.

"Later," she said, smiling when Tony bent down and planted a kiss in Bucky's hair. "We have all the time in the world - for now, let's let them have their happiness for themselves."

Steve nodded in agreement, smiling at the look of adoration in Tony's eyes, before Peggy carefully pulled the door closed.

* * *

_~Epilogue~_

The wedding of Lady Margaret Stark Carter, Head of Stark, and Lord Steven Rogers, Heir of Shield, was the affair of the century.

Not only was the ceremony grand, but everyone in the kingdom wanted a glimpse of the soon-to-be King and Queen of Aavenge, and so came in droves to admire and bless the new couple in person. In attendance was most of the kingdom and the heads and heirs of every royal house, as well as many royals and ambassadors from other lands - including King T'Challa of Wakanda, both princes of Asgard, and even the kings of Latveria and Atlantis.

Indeed, nary an eye could be seen not gawking at the couple, singing their praises and remarking on how bright the kingdom's future would be.

For their part, the newlyweds mostly only had eyes for each other.

Mostly.

"Pegs, if you don't stop watching Tony and Bucky, people are going to talk, and Lord Steven, here, is going to get jealous," Lord Howard told his sister, tilting his cup towards her and then Lord Steven.

Lady Margaret took her eyes away from the dance floor - where Tony and Bucky were dancing a soft waltz, smiling warmly at each other - and fixed her brother with a glare.

"I'm just making sure Tony's having a good time," she sniffed, accepting the drink her new husband offered her.

"The only thing I'm jealous of is how easy they're making that look," Lord Steven added. "Especially since they keep tickling each other when they think no one is looking."

Sipping at her drink, Peggy returned her gaze to the two of them. Sure enough, as she was watching, Bucky's hand darted up to dance along Tony's side during their next turn, making Tony squirm and snicker, and pinch Bucky's side in reproach. Bucky grinned down at him, eyes bright with mischief. Their next turn made the light of the ballroom catch on the only piece of jewelry Tony was wearing - a pendant the same shade of blue as Bucky's eyes. Bucky's gaze darted down to it, his smile widening and softening at the same time, and this time, when his hand moved, it was to cover his own engagement gift - the red jasper that had once been Tony's.

"You worry too much," Howard sighed, once again pulling Peggy's attention away from the couple.

"And why shouldn't I?" Peggy scoffed. "Tony is my heir. It's only proper that I worry about him."

"Yeah, but you're giving poor Bucky a complex," Howard grumbled, sipping at his wine.

"You're just upset because he's afraid of me and not you," Peggy retorted, making Steve snort into his cup.

"Actually, I think you're both wrong," he said once he'd recovered, and before Howard and Peggy could get into an actual argument. "He's positively meek when he's with Jarvis."

That made both Starks snicker.

"Ana loves him, though," Howard pointed out wryly. "I think she's ready to adopt him as her own."

Peggy nodded gravely. "I found her fussing over him in the kitchen last week," she agreed. "Feeding him and telling him one of her dragon stories…"

Steve snorted, but before he could say anything, a deep chuckle captured their attention.

"Your Majesty," Steve said, standing straighter and inclining his head to the newcomer.

King T'Challa smiled and returned the gesture. "Lord Steven, Lady Stark," he said, before glancing over at Howard and adding, "Lord Howard, a pleasure to meet you. Please, do not let me interrupt - I just wanted to congratulate the newlyweds in person."

"Thank you very much, Your Majesty," Peggy said, politely inclining her head as well. "Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything - we were just discussing James's integration into the family."

T'Challa's eyes crinkled in amusement. "It's going well, I hope," he said, before lifting his head and scanning the crowd.

"He's won over the most important person, so that's all that matters," Peggy said decisively.

T'Challa smiled fondly. "They look very good together, yes?" he said, tilting his head towards Bucky and Tony.

The others followed his gaze.

Tony was laughing at something Bucky had said, head ducked and eyes dancing. Bucky leaned forward and kissed Tony's forehead, expression filled with warmth and affection, then said something that set Tony off again, and made him hide his face in Bucky's shoulder.

"No," Peggy corrected softly, eyes happy and smile gentle. "They look happy together."

~The End~

* * *

 **AN** : Thanks for reading!


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